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COLONEL 

THOMAS BLOOD 

CROWN - STEALER 
1618-1680 



BY 

WILBUR CORTEZ ABBOTT 

Professor of History, Sheffield Scientific School 
Yale University 



NEW HAVEN: YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS 

LONDON: HENRY FROWDE 

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 

MCMXI 



>tv* 



$ 



s 



Copyright, 19 10, by 
Edward Whbelock 



Copyright, 1 9 1 1 , by 
Yale University Press 



GENESEE PRESS 
ROCHE8TER, N.Y. 



IGI.A2834 ! \ 



«o 



Colonel Thomas Blood 



5 



The story which follows is, without doubt, 
one of the most curious and extraordinary in 
English history. It is, in fact, so remarkable 
that it seems necessary to begin by assuring 
the cautious reader that it is true. Much as it 
may resemble at times that species of literature 
known in England as the shilling shocker and 
in America as the dime novel, its material is 
drawn, not from the perfervid imagination 
of the author, but from sources whose very 
nature would seem to repudiate romance. The 
dullest and most sedate of official publications, 
Parliamentary reports, memoranda of minis- 
ters, warrants to and from officers and gaol- 
ers, newsletters full of gossip which for two 
hundred years and more has ceased to be 
news, these would seem to offer little promise 
of human interest. 

Yet even these cannot well disguise the fas- 
cination of a life like that of Thomas Blood. 
The tale of adventure has always divided 
honours with the love story. And such a 
career as his, full of mystery, of personal dar- 
ing, and the successful defiance of law by one 
on whom its provisions seem to have borne 



6 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

too hardly, cannot be obscured even by the 
digest of official documents. Moreover it has 
historical significance. This most famous and 
successful of English lawbreakers was no com- 
mon criminal. In a sense he was the repre- 
sentative of an important class during a critical 
period of history. Not merely to the Old 
Englander, but to those interested in the rise 
of the New England beyond seas, the fate of 
the irreconcilable Puritans, no less than that 
of their more submissive brethren, must seem 
of importance. This is the more true in that 
no small number of the men whose names ap- 
pear in this narrative played parts on both 
sides of the Atlantic. The younger Vane, who 
had been the governor of Massachusetts, in 
1636, and whose execution marked the early 
years of Restoration vengeance, is the most 
striking of these figures. Next to him come 
the fugitive regicides, Goffe, Whalley and 
Dixwell, who lived out their days in New 
Haven, Hartford and Hadley. It is not 
so well known, however, that Venner, whose 
insurrection in the early days of the Restora- 
tion was one of the most dramatic and 
important events of that time, was at one 
time a resident of Salem. Still less is it 
likely to be known that Paul Hobson, one of 
the contrivers and the involuntary betrayer of 



CROWN -STEALER 7 

the great plot of 1663, was later allowed to re- 
move to Carolina. The relationship of Law- 
rence Washington, whose activities in the 
early years of Charles II's reign gave the gov- 
ernment such anxiety, to the Washingtons 
who settled in Virginia has been vigorously 
denied. But certainly no small element among 
these irreconcilables found sympathy, support 
or refuge among their brethren in the New 
World. And it was perhaps no more than 
chance that the subject of this sketch did not 
become governor of an English colony in 
America. 

This essay began as a serious historical 
study, whose larger results are chronicled in 
another place. But it grew insensibly into the 
only form of composition which seemed to do 
it any sort of justice, a species of story. It is, 
in short, a romance, which differs from its kind 
chiefly in that it has a larger proportion of 
truth. On the other hand it lacks in equal 
measure what is generally superabundant in 
such works, a plot. It has a plot, indeed many 
plots, but it is not always easy to determine 
just what the plot is or what relation the hero 
or villain as you like, bears to it. It has, above 
all, a mystery which may atone for its short- 
comings in other directions. And it has, final- 
ly, for its central figure a character whose 



8 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

strange, surprising adventures were the marvel 
of his day and are not greatly dimmed by the 
dust of two centuries. On these grounds it 
seems not unprofitable nor uninteresting to 
contemplate again and in a new light the life 
and works of the man who has been generally 
conceded the bad eminence of being the most 
daring and successful of English rascals, 
Thomas Blood, courtesy-colonel of conspiracy 
and crown-stealer. The scene of his activity 
was that brilliant and obscure period we know 
as the Restoration, those years during which 
his most gracious Majesty, King Charles the 
Second, of far from blessed memory, presided 
over the destinies of the English race. And 
you are, if you wish, to transport yourself at 
once into the very midst of the reign of him 
who for his wit and wickedness has been for- 
ever miscalled the Merry Monarch. 



The great event of the winter of 1 670-1 in 
English politics and society was a circum- 
stance unprecedented in European affairs, the 
visit of the head of the House of Orange to 
the English Court. The young Prince Wil- 
liam, soon to become the ruler of Holland, 
and later King of England, made this, his first 
visit to the nation which one day he was to 



CRO WN - STEALER 9 

rule, ostensibly to pay his respects to his uncle 
Charles who was then King, and his uncle 
James, who was Duke of York. Beside this 
his journey was officially declared to have no 
other purpose than pleasure and the transac- 
tion of some private business. What affairs of 
state were then secretly discussed by this pre- 
cocious statesman of nineteen and His British 
Majesty's ministers of the Cabal, we have no 
need to inquire here, nor would our inquiries 
produce much result were they made. The 
web of political intrigue then first set on the 
roaring loom of time which was to plunge 
all England into agitation and revolution and 
unrest, and all western Europe into war, has, 
for the moment, little to do with this story. 
There was enough in the external aspects of 
his visit to fill public attention then and to 
serve our purpose now. The five months of 
his stay were one long round of gayety. Balls, 
receptions, and dinners, horse-races, cocking 
mains, gaming and drinking bouts followed 
each other in royal profusion. And a mar- 
riage already projected between the Prince 
and his cousin, the Princess Mary, gave a 
touch of romance to the affair, only qualified 
by the fact that she still played at dolls in the 
nursery. 

The court was not alone in its efforts to en- 



io COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

tertain the young prince. The ministers, the 
leaders of the opposition, and many private 
individuals beside, lent their energies to this 
laudable end. The work was taken up by 
certain public or semi-public bodies. And, in 
particular, the corporation of the great city 
of London felt that among these festivities it 
must not be outdone in paying some attention 
to the most distinguished citizen of the neigh- 
bouring republic, who, as it happened, was 
also the most promising Protestant candidate 
for the English throne. Accordingly on the 
afternoon of Tuesday, December 6, 1670, as 
the custom then was, they tendered him a 
banquet at Guildhall where were assembled 
the wealth and beauty of the city to do him 
honour. The great function, apart from a 
subtle political significance which might have 
been noted by a careful and well-informed 
observer, was not unlike others of that long 
series of splendid hospitalities by which the 
greatest city in the world has been accustomed 
for centuries to welcome its distinguished 
guests. There was the same splendour of 
civic display, the same wealth of courses, the 
same excellent old wine, doubtless the same 
excellent old speeches. And in spite of the 
greatness of the event and the position and 
importance of the guest of honour, the glories 



CRO WN - STEALER 1 1 

of this noble feast, like those of so many of its 
fellows, might well have passed into that 
oblivion which enfolds dead dinner parties had 
it not been that before the evening was over 
it had become the occasion of one of the most 
daring and sensational adventures in the an- 
nals of crime, the famous attempt on the Duke 
of Ormond. 

This extraordinary exploit, remarkable in 
itself for its audacity and the mystery which 
surrounded it, was made doubly so by the 
eminence and character of its victim. James 
Butler, famous then and since as "the great 
Duke of Ormond," bearer of a score of titles, 
member of the Council, sometime Lord Lieu- 
tenant of Ireland, and still Lord High Steward 
of England, was by birth and ability one of the 
greatest, wealthiest and most powerful men in 
the three Kingdoms. He was, moreover, 
scarcely less distinguished for his noble char- 
acter than for his high rank. Neither these 
nor the circumstances of his career in public 
life gave any apparent ground for belief that 
he was in danger of personal violence. During 
the Civil Wars he had followed the fortunes 
of King Charles the father with courage and 
fidelity, though with no great success. When 
the royal cause was lost he followed Charles 
the son into exile. When monarchy was re- 



12 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

stored he regained his ancient estates and 
dignities, he was made the virtual ruler of 
Ireland and with his two friends, the Chancel- 
lor, Clarendon, and the Treasurer, Southamp- 
ton, completed a triumvirate which dominated 
English affairs during the first half dozen years 
of the Restoration. When our story opens, 
Southampton was dead, Clarendon in exile. 
But Ormond, last of the staunch Protestants 
and stately Cavaliers of the old regime, re- 
mained conspicuous in a corrupt and worth- 
less court for his ability and his virtues. By 
reason of these, as well as his office, he had 
been chosen on this occasion to accompany 
the Prince of Orange to the city feast. And 
by reason of his years he had, before the con- 
cluding revels of the younger men, left the 
banquet to return home and so found his 
way into a most surprising adventure and 
this story. 

At the time of which we write he lived in a 
mansion opposite St. James's palace, built by 
his friend the Chancellor and still known as 
Clarendon House. His establishment, like that 
of most men of rank in those days, was on a 
scale almost feudal. It included some scores 
of servants, companions and dependents of the 
family. A porter sat at the gate, day and night, 
and when the Duke went abroad in his chariot 



CRO WN - S TEA LER 1 3 

he was attended by six footmen, a coachman 
and a runner. It would have seemed that in 
the three kingdoms there was scarce a man 
who, by virtue of his position, character and 
surroundings, was less likely to be exposed to 
violence than he. What enemies he might 
have made in his administration of Ireland, if 
such there were, could at best be men of little 
importance, living besides in a land then as 
distant from London as the United States is 
to-day. They would, presumably, not be well 
informed of his movements, least of all of his 
social engagements, and they would be help- 
less in the midst of London, against the power 
at his command. What rivals he had in Eng- 
land, it might be premised from their station, 
would be far above the practice of personal 
assault as a means of political triumph. Cer- 
tainly nothing could have been farther from 
his thoughts or those of his family than that 
any danger beyond a possible attack of in- 
digestion could threaten him in connection 
with a Guildhall dinner. As the early winter 
evening came on, therefore, the porter dozed 
at the gate, the family and servants retired 
early, according to the better customs of a 
ruder age, and the quiet of a house at peace 
with itself and the world settled down on the 
little community within its walls. 



14 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

It was of short duration. When the lumber- 
ing seventeenth century chariot was heard 
making its way up the street on its return 
about eight o'clock, the porter roused from his 
nap and came out to unbar the gates for the 
home-coming Duke. But to his dismay there 
was no Duke, and neither footmen nor runner, 
only an empty coach and a frightened coach- 
man, crying that they had been set upon by 
seven or eight men in St. James Street almost 
in sight of the house, that the footman, lag- 
ging behind on the hill, had been overpowered 
or put to flight, that the Duke had been 
dragged out of the chariot and carried off 
down Piccadilly way, and that he was, perhaps, 
already killed. The porter was a man of 
courage and decision. He gave the alarm and, 
with a certain James Clark, one of the Duke's 
household, who happened to be passing 
through the courtyard when the coach came 
in, hastened off in the direction indicated. 
They found no one at the place where the 
attack had been made, but hurrying on past 
Devonshire House they came upon two men 
struggling in the mud of the Knightsbridge 
road. As they approached, one of the com- 
batants, a man of huge stature, struggled to 
his feet. He was immediately joined by an- 
other who appeared from the shadows, and 



CRO WN - S TEALER 1 5 

both fired their pistols at the prostrate figure. 
Then, without waiting to see the result, the 
ruffians mounted their horses which had mean- 
while been held by a third man, and rode off. 
The rescuers, joined by many persons whom 
their alarm had brought together, hurried to 
the man in the road. He was too far spent for 
words and in the darkness was unrecognizable 
from dirt and wounds. It was only by feeling 
the great star of the order of the Garter on 
his breast that they identified him as the Duke. 
He was carried home and though much shaken 
by his adventure was found otherwise unin- 
jured and after some days he fully recovered. 
His account of the night's happenings added 
a curious detail to the history of the attack 
and explained why he had been found so far 
from where the coach was stopped. The plan 
of his assailants, it appeared, was not merely 
to capture or kill him, nor, as might have been 
supposed, to hold him for ransom. They pro- 
posed, instead, to carry him to the place of 
public execution, Tyburn, and hang him from 
the gallows there like a common criminal. In 
pursuance of this design they had mounted 
him behind the large man, to whom he was 
securely bound, while the leader rode on to 
adjust the rope that there might be no delay 
at the gallows. When, however, the others 



16 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

failed to appear, this man rode back and found 
that the Duke, despite his age, had managed 
to throw himself and his companion from their 
horse and so gain time till help came. 1 

Such was the extraordinary attempt on the 
Duke of Ormond, than which no event of the 
time showed more daring and ingenuity, nor 
created as great a sensation. The assailants 
were not recognized by the Duke nor his 
men, no assignable motive for their actions 
could be given, nor any further trace of them 
discovered. And this was not from lack of 
effort. The court, the city, and the admin- 
istration were deeply stirred by the outrage, 
and the whole machinery of state was set in 
motion to discover and apprehend the crim- 
inals. Unprecedented rewards were offered, 
the ports were watched, the local authorities 
warned to be on the lookout for the despera- 
does, and spies were sent in every direction to 
gain information. The House of Lords ap- 
pointed a committee of no less than sixty-nine 
peers to examine into "the late barbarous 
assaulting, wounding and robbing the Lord 
High Steward of His Majesty's Household." 

For more than a month this august body, 
aided by the secret service officers, pursued its 



^arte, Life of the Duke of Ormond. 



CRO WN - STEALER 1 7 

investigations. The result was small. The 
most important testimony was that of a 
"drawer" at the Bull Tavern, Charing Cross. 
He deposed that on the day of the assault, 
between six and seven in the evening, five 
men on horseback, with cloaks, who said they 
were graziers, rode up to the inn. They dis- 
mounted, ordered wine, some six pints in all, 
and sat there, drinking, talking and finally, 
having ordered pipes and tobacco, smoking 
for nearly an hour. About seven o'clock a 
man came by on foot crying, "Make way for 
the Duke of Ormond," and shortly after the 
Duke's coach passed by. Fifteen minutes 
later the five men paid their reckoning and 
rode off, still smoking, toward the Hay 
Market or Pall Mall, leaving behind some 
wine, which the boy duly drank. Beside this, 
a certain Michael Beresford, clerk or parson 
of Hopton, Suffolk, testified that on the same 
evening, somewhat earlier it would appear 
than the incident at the Bull, he had met in 
the "Piattza," Covent Garden, a man former- 
ly known to him as a footman in the service 
of the regicide, Sir Michael Livesey. This 
man, Allen by name, appeared much dis- 
turbed, and after some conversation in which 
he hinted at "great designs" on foot, was 
called away by a page, who told him the 



1 8 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

horses were ready. The principal piece of 
evidence, however, was a sword, belt and 
pistol, marked "T. H." found at the scene 
of the struggle and identified as the property 
of one Hunt, who had been arrested in the 
preceding August under suspicion of high- 
way robbery, but released for lack of evidence 
against him. Three horses were also found, 
one of which corresponded to the description 
of the animal ridden by the leader of the five 
men at the Bull. In addition to this there 
was the usual mass of more or less irrelevant 
informations, rumours, arrests, witnesses and 
worthless testimony which such a case always 
produces. After much deliberation the com- 
mittee finally drew up a bill against three men, 
Thomas Hunt, Richard Halliwell, and one 
Thomas Allen, also called Allett, Aleck and 
Ayloffe. These were summoned to render 
themselves "by a short day" or stand con- 
victed of the assault. The bill was duly passed 
by both houses and fully vindicated the dig- 
nity of the Lords. But it had no further re- 
sult. The men did not render themselves by 
any day, short or long, the government agents 
failed to find them and there the matter rested. 
The result and indeed the whole procedure 
was thoroughly unsatisfactory to many in au- 
thority. At the outset of the investigation 



CRO WN - STEALER 1 9 

Justice Morton of London, the far-famed 
terror of highwaymen, was asked by Ormond 
to look into the matter and was furnished with 
the names of certain suspects. He reported 
on Hunt and his career, and went on to say 
that Moore and Blood, concerning whom his 
Grace had enquired, were in or about London. 
A month later, Lord Arlington, the Secretary 
of State, who had charge of the secret service, 
reported to the Lords' committee that of the 
men suspected, "Jones, who wrote Mene 
Tekel, x Blood, called Allen, Allec, etc., young 
Blood, his son, called Hunt, under which name 
he was indicted last year, Halliwell, Moore and 
Simons, were desperate characters sheltering 
themselves under the name of Fifth Monarchy 
men." "Would not this exposing of their names 
by act of Parliament," he asked, "make them 
hide themselves in the country, whereas the 
Nonconformists with whom they met, and 
who abhorred their crime would otherwise be 
glad to bring them to justice?" Apparently 
not, in the opinion of the Lords, and the result 
was what we have seen. Neither Arlington's 
advice nor the men were taken. And though 
in the minds of Ormond, Morton and Arling- 
ton, apparently little doubt existed as to the 



1 A famous fanatic pamphlet against the government. 



20 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

authors of the outrage, no way was found to 
put their opinions into effect. It needed 
another and even more daring exploit to 
demonstrate the truth of their conjecture and 
bring the criminal into custody. And it was 
not long until just such a circumstance con- 
firmed their surmise that the man guilty of 
the assault was the most famous outlaw of his 
day, long known and much wanted, many 
times proclaimed, and on whose head a price 
had often been set. He was, in short, Thomas 
Blood, courtesy-colonel of conspiracy, plotter, 
desperado, and now, at last, highwayman, a 
man not much known to the world at large, 
but a source of long standing anxiety to the 
government. 

Who was he and what was the motive of 
this apparently foolhardy and purposeless 
piece of bravado? The answer to that ques- 
tion lies deep in the history of the time, for 
Blood was no common rascal. Unlike the 
ordinary criminal he was not merely an in- 
dividual lawbreaker. He was at once a leader 
and a type of an element in the state, and the 
part that he and his fellows played in affairs 
was not merely important in itself and in its 
generation, but even at this distance it has an 
interest little dimmed by two centuries of 
neglect. The story of his life, in so far as it 



CRO IVN - STEALER 2 1 

can be pieced out from the materials at our 
command, is as follows: 

In the reign of James I, that is to say, in 
the first quarter of the seventeenth century, 
there lived at an obscure place called Sarney. 
County Meath, Ireland, a man named Blood. 
He was by trade a blacksmith and ironworker 
and seems to have been possessed of some 
little property, including an iron works. He 
was not a native Irishman but one of those 
north English or Scotch Presbyterians, colon- 
ized in that unhappy island according to the 
policy which had been pursued by the English 
government. Of him we know little more save 
this. About 1618 there was born to him a 
son, christened Thomas, who grew to young 
manhood unmarked by any noteworthy 
achievements or qualities of which any record 
remains. But if the circumstances of his own 
life were of no great importance, the times in 
which he lived were stirring enough, and 
remote as he was from the center of English 
political life, he could hardly have failed to 
know something of the great issues then agi- 
tating public affairs, and be moved by events 
far outside his own little circle. When he was 
ten years old, the long struggle between the 
English king and Parliament blazed up in the 
Petition of Right, by which the Commons 



22 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

strove to check the power of the Crown. 
Thereafter for eleven years no Parliament sat 
in England. There, supported by royal 
prerogative, the Archbishop Laud sought to 
force conformity to the Anglican ritual on 
multitudes of unwilling men and women, while 
the Attorney-General, Noy, and the Treas- 
urer, Weston, revived long-lapsed statutes and 
privileges and stretched the technicalities of 
the law to extort unparliamentary revenue. 
Then it was that the Great Emigration poured 
thousands of settlers into the New World and 
established finally and beyond question the 
success of the struggling Puritan colonies 
oversea. Such matters touched the boy in 
the Irish village little. But when the great- 
est of the Royalists, Thomas Wentworth, Earl 
Strafford to be, was transferred from the 
presidency of the English Council of the 
North to rule Ireland, Blood, like all others 
in that troubled province, was brought face 
to face with the issues of the time. He, like 
others, saw in that administration the theory 
and practice of the enlightened despotism 
which English Parliamentarians said it was 
the aim of this man and his master to force 
upon England when English liberties should 
have been crushed with the Irish army then 
forming. 



CRO WN - STEALER 23 

Whether young Blood enlisted in that 
army we do not know, but it is not improb- 
able. In any event, when the Civil War finally 
broke out, the Blood family seem to have 
been in the thick of it. Years afterward 
Prince Rupert said that he remembered the 
young man as a bold and dashing soldier in 
his command. And, later still, Blood himself 
wrote King Charles II, in behalf of his uncle 
Neptune, for thirty years dean of Kilfernora, 
noting among his virtues that he had been 
with Charles I at Oxford. Thus it would 
appear that the Bloods first sided with the 
royal cause. Beside this we know that, in 
the year before the execution of the King, 
Blood married a Miss Holcroft of Holcroft 
in Lancashire. And we know further that 
then or thereafter, like many another stout 
soldier, like the stoutest of them all, General 
Monk 1 himself, the young Royalist changed 
sides, for the next time he appears in history 
it is with the rank of lieutenant in the Crom- 
wellian army. 

Before that, however, many great events 



J This spelling of the General's name has been dis- 
puted of late, such authorities as Professor Firth and 
Mr. Willcock preferring Monck. But the form here 
used seems as good, it has much tradition and authority 
on its side, and the point is, after all, of no special 
importance. 



24 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

had taken place, in war and politics. The 
Royalist resistance in England had been beaten 
down, and the king was dead, the title and 
office of king had been abolished, the House 
of Lords had been done away with, and Eng- 
land was a commonwealth with a Hunting- 
donshire gentleman, Oliver Cromwell, at its 
head. The war had shifted to Scotland and Ire- 
land. Charles II had been proclaimed in Edin- 
burgh, and Catholic and Royalist had risen 
in Ireland. Thither Cromwell had hastened 
with his invincible Ironsides, to crush the 
Irish before they could gather head and, with 
the aid of the Scotch, overthrow his hard- 
won power. His stroke was swift and merci- 
less. The chief strongholds of his enemies, 
Drogheda and Wexford, were stormed and 
their inhabitants put to the sword after the 
manner of the old Testament. The Irish army 
was overpowered and Cromwell hurried back 
to crush the Scots at Dunbar and Worcester, 
leaving his son-in-law, the lawyer-general 
Ireton, to stamp out the embers of rebellion. 
Thereafter, he sent the ablest of his sons, 
Henry, to hold the island for the Common- 
wealth. 

With him Blood came into touch with the 
house of Cromwell. The young Irishman had 
probably been among the troops which were 



CRO WN - STEALER 25 

brought over to conquer the "rebels" serving 
under the Lord General and Ireton after him 
For when the new government, following the 
example of its predecessors, confiscated the 
land of its enemies and the fair domains of 
Royalist and Catholic passed into the hands 
of the hard-hitting and loud-praying colonels 
and captains and even common soldiers of 
the Commonwealth, Blood not only acquired 
estates, but was further distinguished by being 
made Justice of the Peace under Henry Crom- 
well. Thus with his fellows, and in greater 
proportion than most of them, he prospered 
and after an adventurous career seemed about 
to achieve the ambition of most Englishmen 
then and since, and become a real country 
gentleman. For a space of seven years, under 
Commonwealth and Protectorate, he lived, 
like many others of his kind, satisfied and 
secure in the enjoyment of the fruits of his 
share in saving England from the tyrant, little 
moved by the great events oversea. And, 
had it not been for circumstances as far out- 
side his little sphere as those which had raised 
him to this position, he might well have 
finished an obscure and peaceful existence, 
with little further interest for the historian or 
moralist. But at the end of those seven fat 
years Fate, who had been so kind to Blood 



26 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

and his fellows, changed sides, and he, like 
many others, missing the signs of the times, or 
moved by conviction, could not, or would 
not, at all events did not change with her. 
On September 3, 1658, Oliver Cromwell 
died and the fabric of government which for 
some years had rested on little more than his 
will and his sword, began at once to crumble. 
For a few months his son Richard endured 
the empty honour of the Protector's title. 
Then he resigned and the administration was 
left in a weltering chaos of Rump Parliament 
politicians and Cromwellian army generals. 
To end this anarchy came the governor of 
Scotland, General Monk, with his army, to 
London in the first months of 1660. Under 
his shrewd, stern management the old Parlia- 
ment was forced to dissolve itself and a new 
House of Commons was chosen. The first 
act of this so-called Convention was to recall 
the House of Stuart to the throne, and on 
May 29, 1660, Charles II rode into London 
and his inheritance, welcomed by the same 
shouting thousands who had so recently as- 
sembled to pay the last honours to the Pro- 
tectorate. As rapidly as might be thereafter 
the new regime was established. The old 
officers and officials were replaced by Royal- 
ists, the forces by land and sea were disbanded, 



CRO WN - STEALER 27 

save for five thousand trusty troops to guard 
the new monarchy, the leaders of the fallen 
party were arrested and executed, or driven 
into exile, or put under security. Some, like 
Monk and Montague and Browne, were now 
the strongest pillars in the new political edi- 
fice. Many, like Harrison and his fellow-regi- 
cides, were marked for speedy execution, while 
others, like Vane, were kept for future sacri- 
fice. Many more, like Marten and Waller and 
Cobbet, dragged out a wretched existence as 
political prisoners, exchanging one prison 
for another till death released them. Some, 
like Hutchinson, were put under bonds and 
granted a half liberty that in too many cases 
led only to later imprisonment. Only a few, 
like Lambert, lived long in the more pleasant 
confinement of the Channel Islands and the 
Scillies. Yet many escaped. Ludlow and 
Lisle and their. companions found protection 
if not safety in Switzerland. Many more 
sought refuge in Holland. Some like Alger- 
non Sidney flitted over Europe like uneasy 
spirits. No small number joined the Emperor 
to fight the Turk, or took service in Holland 
or Sweden or the petty states of Germany. 
And still others, like Goffe and Whalley and 
Dixwell, sought and found security in the 
New World. The leaders of the fallen party 



28 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

out of the way, for the ensuing six years the 
government left no stone unturned to undo 
the work of revolution and to restore in so 
far as possible the old order. 

It was no easy task. For twenty years 
England had been engaged in a civil strife 
where political animosities were embittered 
by religious dissensions, emphasized by lines 
of social cleavage. Not merely had the ancient 
fabric of church and state been shattered, but 
society itself had been convulsed by the in- 
trusion of ideas and classes hitherto little re- 
garded as vital elements of public affairs. One 
by one institutions long held sacred fell be- 
fore these new vandals who seemed about to 
set up a new heaven and a new earth. King, 
Lords, Church, local government, finally the 
House of Commons itself disappeared. An 
open way for the talents was created. A carter 
became a colonel and member of Parliament, 
a butcher became a major-general. The son 
of a country merchant developed into the 
greatest English naval commander of his 
time. Meeting house and conventicle took 
their place beside parish church and cathedral. 
Bishops, vestments, liturgy, at last the whole 
Establishment disappeared, and there came to 
be thousands of men who, like Pepys, saw a 
church service with its "singing men" for the 



CROWN- STEALER 29 

first time after the Restoration. One section 
of the people in short had triumphed over 
another. Many of them, like Blood, actually 
entered into their enemies' inheritance and 
seemed likely to found a new dominant caste. 
Nor was the effect confined to England. That 
land where Puritanism had taken refuge 
across the sea, New England, felt the im- 
pulse no less strongly. The current of 
emigration which some years before had 
flowed so strongly toward the new world was 
checked and even turned back. With the 
clash of arms not a few New World Puritans 
hastened to the mother country to strike a 
blow for their cause. Thus the young George 
Downing, but just graduated from Harvard, 
entered the Parliamentary army as chaplain, 
turning thence to diplomacy, and with the 
overthrow of the Puritans, to Royalism. But 
many were more scrupulous or less fortunate 
than he. When 1660 came and this was all 
reversed, when the old party was in the 
ascendant, the king on the throne, what would 
become of them? They had been free to wor- 
ship in their own way and had been largely 
exempt even from many forms of taxation. 
But all this was now suddenly reversed. The 
Royalists were again in the ascendant, the 
king was on his throne, Puritanism was dis- 



30 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

credited, its leaders gone, its organization 
destroyed. What were men like Blood to do? 
Matters moved rapidly in those early months 
of 1660 as they had need to do if the restora- 
tion of the old order was to be accomplished 
without bloodshed. From the first of January 
when Monk with his Scotch army entered 
England on its way to London to the end of 
May when Charles II rode into Whitehall and 
his inheritance, great events pressed close on 
each other's heels. The old Long Parliament 
was restored to decree its own dissolution and 
the summoning of its successor. A general 
election when Royalism was stimulated by the 
Declaration from Breda promising amnesty 
and toleration produced the Convention Par- 
liament which under stress of Royal promise 
and fear of the sectaries recalled the King. A 
Royal Council was hurriedly brought together, 
the House of Lords filled up, the Common- 
wealth officials and officers replaced as rapidly 
as might be by Royalists and before the end of 
June administration had been secured for the 
new monarchy. Thus under the protection of 
Monk and his trusty regiments, King, Lords, 
Commons resumed their ancient place, admin- 
istration came into new hands, the bishops 
were taking their place in the Lords, the 
clergy in their parishes as they could and all 



CRO WN - STEALER 31 

England seemed well on the way to accept a 
settlement. Yet great issues remained. 

For the moment the restoration had affected 
only the leaders of the fallen party and the 
army. The divisions in society and politics 
remained, and the three classes which had 
fought the civil war persisted. But then- 
positions were greatly changed. The Angli- 
cans were in power. The Presbyterians for 
the time shared that power with their rivals, 
and it was only by their aid the king had been 
recalled. But the Third Party, or sectaries — 
Independents, Baptists, Unitarians, Quakers, 
and the rest, were now hopelessly at sea. 
Cromwell, under whom they had risen to 
numbers and influence, was dead, their army 
was being disbanded, they had little voice in 
Parliament, and the shadow of persecution was 
already upon them. Yet though cast down 
they were not destroyed. They had not time 
to fully establish themselves as a factor in 
religion and politics. Their development was 
checked half way and they had been given no 
opportunity to work out their salvation un- 
hindered. But they were there and they were 
to be reckoned with. 

For several months, though the Anglicans 
strove to prevent it, the Presbyterians at least, 
seemed likely to receive the recognition they 



32 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

had earned by their services to the restora- 
tion. In the Parliament they were the most 
powerful group. In the new Council twelve 
men of the thirty had borne arms against the 
late king. Among the royal chaplains ten 
Presbyterian divines found place. And beside 
issuing the Declaration from Breda promising 
liberty of conscience, the king presently called 
a conference of Anglicans and Presbyterians 
at the Savoy palace to consider some plan of 
toleration or comprehension. So far all 
promised well for an amicable adjustment of 
relations between the two great parties in 
church and state. But their very agreement 
boded ill for the third party. In the days of 
their prosperity they had suppressed Anglican 
and Presbyterian alike. Now that these had 
joined hands the sectaries had little to hope. 
They had early stirred to meet the danger. 
While the Convention debated the terms on 
which the king should return, their delibera- 
tions were cut short not less by the declara- 
tion of the king, than by the fear of a rising 
of the republicans and sects. But, as the 
event proved, it was not in the alliance of the 
two greater parties their danger lay, for that 
alliance was of a few days and full of trouble. 
The Convention was dissolved without the 
embodiment into legislation of those gftiaran- 



CRO WN - STEALER 33 

tees which might have made the Presbyterians 
secure. And before the new House was 
chosen, or the Savoy Conference held, their 
cause was hopelessly compromised by the 
third party with whom, against their will, the 
Anglicans successfully endeavored to identify 
them. For in January, 1661, fanaticism broke 
out in London. A cooper named Venner, a 
soldier of the old army, sometime conspirator 
against Cromwell, sometime resident of Salem, 
in New England, with some three score 
followers, all of that peculiar millenial sect 
known as Fifth Monarchy men, rose against 
the government, and for three days kept the 
city, the court and the administration in a 
state of feverish alarm. But the odds against 
them were too great. They found neither 
aid nor comfort from outside, and the children 
of this world triumphed over those who would 
have restored the rule of the saints under 
King Jesus. 

That rising helped destroy whatever chance 
the Presbyterians had of holding their strength 
in the new Parliament, and the House of 
Commons showed a clear majority of Royalist 
Anglicans. Hardly had this body begun its 
deliberations when the Savoy Conference met, 
and, after some wrangling, dissolved without 
reaching any agreement. Thence ensued a 



34 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

period of reaction whose results are writ 
large in religious history to this day, for this 
was the time when established church and 
denominations definitely parted company. 
The dominant party lost no time in destroying 
the strength of their rivals. The Corporation 
Act drove the dissenters from those bodies 
which governed the cities and towns and 
chose a majority of the Commons. The Act 
of Uniformity excluded all dissenting ministers 
from the Church of England. And the restor- 
ation of the bishops to the House of Lords, 
and of its confiscated property to the Church 
completed the discomfiture of the Presbyter- 
ians. These, indeed, suffered most for they 
had most to lose, but the new policy bore no 
less hardly on the sectaries. And these, joined 
by the more extreme Presbyterians, were less 
inclined to submit to the revived authority in 
church and state. Many moderate men, in- 
deed, found it in their consciences to conform 
enough to evade the law. But many more 
were not able nor inclined to take this course. 
Deprived of their army, of their political posi- 
tion, of their religious liberty, even at length 
of their right to petition, in many cases of 
what they considered their rightful property, 
with no outlet for their opinions in Parlia- 
ment, the case seemed hopeless enough. Some 



CRO WN - STEALER 35 

recanted, the most began a long and honor- 
able course of silent endurance of their perse- 
cution. And some, of bolder spirit, turned to 
darker ways. 

These events in England had their counter- 
part in Scotland and Ireland. In the former 
a Royalist Parliament, intoxicated with power, 
a source, however, from which its name of the 
Drunken Parliament was not derived, re- 
pealed at one stroke all the acts of the pre- 
ceding twenty-eight years, and abolished that 
document so dear to Presbyterian hearts, the 
Solemn League and Covenant. In the latter 
a Court of Claims was established to unravel 
the intricacies of the interminable land ques- 
tion and restore the estates, as far as possible, 
to their former owners. In all three kingdoms 
the dispossessed party was thrown into a fer- 
ment of discontent over this sudden reversal of 
their fortunes. The soldiers of the old army 
were especially enraged. They felt that they 
had lost by political trickery what had been 
won in fair fight. By a sudden turn of fortune's 
wheel, a bit of legal chicanery, their old 
enemy, the Parliament, had caught them off 
their guard and overthrown them. Their place 
had been taken by the ungodly, the Arminian 
and the idol-worshipper. And these brethren 
of the Covenant and the sword were not men 



36 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

to rest quietly under such wrongs. Many, in- 
deed, turned aside from politics and war, tak- 
ing no further part in public affairs. But not a 
few declared they would not be led into an 
Egyptian bondage under a new Pharaoh. 
They would not be turned adrift by the empty 
vote of a packed Parliament, whence they had 
been excluded. Those whom they had fairly 
fought and fairly conquered, those who had 
followed Mammon, and bowed the knee to 
Baal, the worshippers of Rimmon, the doers of 
abominations, the servants of the Scarlet 
Woman who sits on the Seven Hills, were 
these to enter upon that fair inheritance, so 
lately in the hands of the Saints, without a 
blow? Surely the Lord was on the side of His 
servants, as he had shown them by so many 
signal instances of His favour, at Naseby, at 
Marston Moor, at Dunbar and Worcester, and 
a hundred fights beside, in the great days gone 
by. Was He to look on unmoved? Had He 
abandoned them to their enemies? Was this 
not rather a device of His to try their con- 
stancy and courage? Was it not their part as 
brave and righteous men to strike another 
blow for the faith that was in them and the 
heritage He had put in their hands? A bold 
stroke had once prevailed against their oppres- 
sors. Might not another restore the Covenant 



CROWN- STEALER 37 

and give back to the afflicted saints their 
inheritance and the spoil of the Philistines? A 
new king was on the throne who knew not 
Joseph. But his rule was recent, his hold pre- 
carious. His father had been overthrown 
though all the wealth and power of the mighty 
had been on his side. Now the land was honey- 
combed with sedition, there were thousands of 
bold spirits accustomed to discipline and the 
use of arms, and thousands more of the faith- 
ful with money and sympathy to aid in the 
great work of destroying the rule of grasping 
bishops and a Catholic king. 

Thus while the regicides fled from the wrath 
of the new government, or suffered the penalty 
of their deeds in London, while Parliament 
was driving Nonconformity from church and 
state and the greater part of the dispossessed 
party girded itself to endure the impending 
persecution, while new-fledged royalty flaunt- 
ed its licentiousness in Whitehall, earnest and 
vindictive men plotted against the new order 
in England, in Ireland and Scotland and 
Wales, in London itself. Emissaries made 
their way by night along unfrequented roads, 
or stole from village to village in tiny fishing 
boats, or crept through narrow lanes of the old 
City and its environs, to cheer the secret and 
unlawful conventicles of Baptist and Quaker, 



38 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

Presbyterian and Congregationalist, Unitarian 
and Fifth Monarchist, with hopes and plans for 
the resurrection of the Kingdom of the Right- 
eous. The old Republicans were approached, 
the holders of land taken in the recent 
troubles, the members of the old Rump Parlia- 
ment, the exiles abroad, the officers and 
soldiers of the old army at home. Proclama- 
tions were printed promising all things to 
all men, but chiefly toleration and lighter 
taxes. Tracts were smuggled from London 
or Holland full of the language of prophecy. 
The new monarchy had been measured and 
found wanting, the old Covenant was about to 
rise, Phoenix-like, from its ashes, the heavens 
were full of signs and portents, and prodigies 
everywhere indicated the fall of king and 
bishop. A new Armageddon was at hand, the 
rule of King Jesus was to be restored, "even 
by Blood." Everywhere arms were gathered 
and men enlisted against that great day. A 
council of conspirators directed the activities 
of its agents from London and communicated 
with other groups throughout the three king- 
doms and with the refugees on the Continent. 
In such wise were woven the threads of con- 
spiracy against restored royalty and the pride 
of the Anglicans, widely but loosely. 

And everywhere, meanwhile, the govern- 



CRO WN - STEALER 39 

ment followed close on the trail of the con- 
spirators and kept in close touch with the 
elements of discontent. Everywhere spies and 
informers were enlisted, even from the ranks of 
conspiracy itself, to discover and also, it was 
whispered, to foment conspiracy where none 
existed, that dangerous men might be drawn 
in and seized. From every county justices 
and deputy lieutenants poured a steady stream 
of prisoners and information into the hands 
of the administration. Under the careful 
direction of the Lord General the militia was 
reorganized, former strongholds weakened or 
destroyed, troops moved here and there, sus- 
picious persons seized and incipient disturb- 
ance vigorously repressed. So for three years 
this underground warfare went on. Late in 
1 66 1 the government found or professed to 
find, a clue to conspiracy and exploited its 
discovery in Parliament to secure the act 
against corporations. Again in 1662 another, 
and perhaps more real danger was brought 
to light, and again this was used to pass the 
Act of Uniformity, a measure against dissent- 
ing ministers which drove some eighteen 
hundred from the Church and rendered com- 
prehension finally impossible. Some of the 
alleged conspirators were hanged, some were 
used to get more information, but for the 



4 o COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

most part the leaders remained unknown, or 
escaped. Thus far the disaffected had played 
into the hands of their bitterest enemies, and 
had accomplished little more than furnish a 
much desired excuse for legislation to destroy 
Nonconformity root and branch. If insurrec- 
tion had been planned at all it had been 
thwarted, and turned against its authors and 
their party. So useful had it been to the 
Anglicans, indeed, that it was more than 
hinted that the so-called conspiracies were in 
fact engineered by them for use in Parliament. 
This was not quite true. Conspiracy there 
had been, and was, as events were to prove. 
The increasing persecution of Dissent, the in- 
creasing weight of taxation, the increasing 
luxury of the court and the exactions of the 
church, provided an increasing basis of dis- 
content, deep and far-reaching. And the 
administration learned presently that the plot 
they had so diligently pursued and exploited 
had a very real existence. By 1663 it was a 
wide spread and apparently well-organized 
conspiracy. It included the discontented Non- 
conformists of the west and north of England, 
the Scotch Covenanters, the dispossessed 
Cromwellians in Ireland, the London con- 
venticlers and the Continental refugees. A 
central Committee of Six, chiefly old army 



CROWN - STEALER 41 

officers, sat in London, whence they directed 
the movement from their hiding places in 
those little known regions of the metropolis 
where even the King's writ ran with difficulty 
or not at all. The scheme contemplated the 
surprise and seizure of Whitehall and the 
Tower, the capture of the King and his brother, 
of the Chancellor, and the Lord General. 
Simultaneous risings were to take place 
throughout the country whereby the local 
authorities were to be overpowered, the 
Guards, if possible, decoyed away from the 
capital, and the central administration par- 
alyzed and destroyed. The forces of the 
conspirators, under their former leaders, 
especially General Ludlow, were to unite, 
march on London, and there either exact 
terms from the captive King or set up another 
Republic, but in any event relieve the people 
from the burdens of religious and financial 
oppression. Such was the dream of the dis- 
contented, which, transformed into action 
might well have plunged England again into 
the throes of civil war. 

Meanwhile what of our friend Blood amid 
all these great affairs? Had he, like many 
others, preferred the safer course, withdrawn 
into private life and abandoned his property 
and ambitions together? That, indeed, seems 



42 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

to have been his first course. The Court of 
Claims apparently deprived him, among many 
others, of part or all of his new-found fortune 
in land, and he seems to have taken up his 
residence in Dublin, with or near his brother- 
in-law, Lackie, or Lecky, a Presbyterian 
clergyman, and, like his modern namesake, 
the historian, a fellow of Trinity College. 
Even so he maintained his reputation as an 
active man, for on June 30, 1663, a Dublin 
butcher, Dolman by name, is found petitioning 
the Duke of Ormond for the return of an 
"outlandish bull and cow" of which he had 
been unlawfully deprived by Thomas Blood, 
lieutenant in the late army. The petition was 
duly granted and the animals doubtless duly 
recovered. But before that the gallant lieu- 
tenant was in far deeper designs than the 
benevolent assimilation of other people's out- 
landish bulls, and before the worthy butcher 
petitioned .against him he had come under the 
direct attention of the Lord-lieutenant in a 
much more serious connection. 

It was not to be supposed that such a man 
was overlooked in the assignment of parts for 
the great conspiracy. A committee had been 
formed in Dublin to organize and enlist the 
old Cromwellians in the design and of this 
committee Blood and his brother-in-law were 



CRO WN - STEALER 43 

prominent members. They were, in fact, the 
chief means by which correspondence was 
maintained with the north Irish Presbyterians 
in Ulster, and the so-called Cameronians in 
Scotland, as well as the Nonconformist group 
in Lancashire and north England, with whom 
Blood's marriage had given him some con- 
nection. The local design, as evolved by this 
committee, was most ingenious. A day, the 
9th or 10th of May, was set for its execution, 
men and arms were collected, and the details 
carefully arranged for the seizure of Dublin 
Castle and the person of Ormond. According 
to an old usage the Lord-lieutenant was accus- 
tomed from day to day to receive petitions 
in person from all who cared to carry their 
troubles to him in this way. Taking advantage 
of this custom, it was proposed by the con- 
spirators to send certain men enlisted in the 
enterprise into the Castle in the guise of 
petitioners. Some eighty others, meanwhile, 
disguised as workingmen and loiterers, were 
to hang about the great gate of the Castle. 
Another, disguised as a baker, and carrying a 
basket of bread on his head, was to enter the 
gate, as if on his way to the kitchen. As he 
went in he was to stumble and let fall his pile 
of loaves. It was calculated that the care- 
less guard would probably rush out to snatch 



44 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

the bread thus scattered. The baker would 
resist, the pretended workmen and loiterers 
would gather to see the fun, and, under cover 
of the disturbance, rush the gate, seize the 
guard-house and its arms, overpower the 
guard, and, with the aid of the petitioners 
within, occupy the Castle. Upon the news of 
this, risings were to take place throughout the 
country, and the English troops and officials 
overpowered and brought over or killed. 

It was an admirable plan. The volunteers 
were chosen, the disguises prepared, a proc- 
lamation to the people was printed, and the 
whole matter laid in train. The plot, in fact, 
wanted but one thing to succeed — secrecy. 
This it was not destined to have. At the 
proper time the inevitable informer appeared 
in the person of Mr. Philip Alden or Arden, 
a member of the committee. By him and by a 
certain Sir Theophilus Jones, to whom some 
knowledge of the plot had come, Ormond was 
warned of his danger. He took immediate 
steps to secure himself and arrest the con- 
spirators. But they were warned of their 
danger in time to escape, and under the rules 
of the game they should have made off at 
once. Instead they boldly went on with their 
plans, but set the time four days ahead, for 
May 5th. Even this daring step failed to save 



CROWN -STEALER 45 

them. The Castle guard was increased, troops 
and militia called out, the other districts 
warned, and the conspirators sought out and 
arrested. Among the first victims was Blood's 
brother-in-law, Lackie. He was thrown into 
prison, where the severity of his treatment is 
said to have driven him insane. His wife 
petitioned for his release, and there is a story 
that his colleagues, the fellows of Trinity 
College, joined her in begging that his life be 
spared. They were told that he might have 
his liberty if he would conform, which, how- 
ever, even at that price, he refused to do. This 
much is quite certain, his wife was promised, 
not her husband's liberty but his body. And 
this, after his execution in December, was 
accordingly handed over to her. The other 
conspirators suffered likewise in life, or liberty, 
or property, and every effort was made to 
include Blood in the list of victims. A 
proclamation he had issued was burned by the 
hangman. He was declared an outlaw, his 
remaining estates were confiscated, and a price 
was set on his head. But the government was 
compelled to satisfy itself with this, the man 
himself disappeared. Among the brethren of 
his faith he was able to find plenty of hiding 
places. But, according to his own story, told 
many years later, he scorned to skulk in 



46 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

corners. Disguised as a Quaker, as a Dissent- 
ing minister, even as a Catholic priest, he made 
his way from place to place, living and preach- 
ing openly, and by his very effrontery keeping 
the officers off his scent for some years. And 
so great, it is said, was the terror of his name 
and his daring that a plot to rescue Lackie 
from the scaffold not only frightened away the 
crowd from the execution, but nearly suc- 
ceeded in its object, while for months after- 
ward Ormond was hindered from venturing 
out of Dublin by the fear of his friends that 
he would be kidnapped or killed by Blood and 
his companions. 

Meanwhile the great design in England, 
like that in Ireland, found its shipwreck in 
treachery. Two of the men entrusted with 
the secrets of the design revealed it to the 
government. One of the leaders, Paul 
Hobson, was early seized, and his correspond- 
ence intercepted. The first leader chosen 
went mad, and the miracles which were 
prophesied, did not come to pass. The plans 
for a rising in Durham, Westmoreland and 
Lancashire were betrayed, troops and militia 
were hurried to the points of danger, and the 
few who rose in arms during that fatal month 
of October, 1663, discouraged by the fewness 
of their numbers and the strength brought 



CRO WN - STEALER 47 

against them, dispersed without a blow. The 
rest was but the story of arrests, examinations, 
trials, and executions. More than a score of 
those who took part in the design were 
executed, more than a hundred punished by 
fine or imprisonment or exile, or all three. 
Hobson was kept prisoner in the Tower for 
more than a year. His health failed, and in 
consideration of information he had given, he 
and his family were permitted to go under 
heavy bonds, to the Carolinas, where, as else- 
where in the colonies, he doubtless found 
many kindred spirits. By the middle of 1664 
the tale of victims was complete, and the con- 
spiracy was crushed. The alarm again re- 
acted on Parliament, and a bill against meet- 
ings of Dissenters, which had been long 
pending, was passed under pressure of the plot. 
By its provisions it became unlawful to hold 
a religious meeting of more than five persons 
beside the family in whose house the worship- 
pers assembled under severe and cumulative 
penalties. This was the Conventicle Act. 

Blood, meanwhile, like several of his co- 
conspirators, flitted from place to place, in 
Ireland and England, the authorities always on 
his trail. Finally, like many before and after 
him, he seems to have found refuge in the 
seventeenth century sanctuary of political 



48 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

refugees, Holland. There no small number of 
the leaders and soldiers of the old army had 
preceded him, and many had taken service in 
the Dutch army and navy. It may be that 
he had some thought of following their ex- 
ample, perhaps his designs were deeper still. 
He had nothing to hope from England, for 
his confiscated estates had been leased to a 
certain Captain Toby Barnes, reserving the 
rights of the government, based on his for- 
feiture by treason. He therefore made his 
way and extended his acquaintance not only 
among the English, but among the Dutch as 
well, and, if his story is true, was introduced 
to no less a person than the great Dutch 
admiral, De Ruyter, the most formidable of all 
England's enemies. And this was of much 
importance, for while he sojourned abroad, 
England and Holland had drifted into war. 
From February, 1665, to July, 1667, the two 
strongest maritime powers strove for control 
of the sea. In the summer of 1665 the English 
won some advantage in the fierce battle of 
Lowestoft, but the noise of rejoicing was 
stilled by a terrible catastrophe. In that same 
summer the Plague fell upon London. The 
death list in the city alone swelled from 600 
in April to 20,000 in August. Business was 
suspended, the court and most of the adminis- 



CRO WN - STEALER 49 

tration and the clergy fled, and the war 
languished. A few brave spirits like Sheldon, 
the bishop of London, a certain secretary in 
the Admiralty, Samuel Pepys, of much fame 
thereafter, and the old Cromwellian general, 
Monk, now Duke of Albemarle, stuck grimly 
to their posts. But they and their fellows 
were few among many. Amid the terror and 
confusion the Nonconformist clergy came out 
of their hiding places, ascended the pulpits 
which had been deserted by their brethren of 
the Anglican church, few of whom followed 
the example of their brave, intolerant old 
bishop, and ministered to the spiritual needs 
of the stricken people. Conventicles sprung 
up everywhere, and conspiracy again raised its 
head. This time new plans were devised. 
Hundreds of old soldiers were reported com- 
ing to London and taking quarters near the 
Tower. Arms were collected and a plan 
formed to surprise the great stronghold by an 
attack from the water side. In addition there 
was a design for risings elsewhere, aided by 
the Dutch. The government bestirred itself 
under the direction of the inevitable Monk. 
The London conspirators were seized, inform- 
ation was sent to the local authorities, who 
made arrests and called out the militia, and 
the dang-er was averted. Parliament met at 



50 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

Oxford in October and, as a sequel to the 
plot, passed the most ferocious of the perse- 
cuting measures, the Five Mile Act, by which 
no Nonconformist preacher or teacher was 
permitted to come within that distance of a 
city or borough, save on a duly certified 
journey. 

The next year repeated the history of its 
predecessor. The English fleet under the only 
man who seemed to rise to emergencies in this 
dark time, Monk, met the Dutch off the 
North Foreland and fought there a terrible 
battle which lasted three days, and was 
claimed as a victory by both sides. Again this 
was followed by a calamity. In September a 
fire broke out in London which raged almost 
unchecked for a week, and laid the greater 
part of the city in ashes. France, meanwhile, 
entered the war on the side of Holland, and 
the English government, corrupt and ex- 
hausted, seemed almost ready to fall. It was 
little wonder that the sectaries, though their 
arms had been lost in the fire, plucked up 
courage and laid more plans. Six weeks after 
the fire the Covenanters in west Scotland, 
maddened by persecution, were in arms, and 
maintained themselves for some weeks against 
the forces sent against them. During the 
following winter the English, short of money, 



CRO WN - STEALER 5 ' 

and negotiating for peace, resolved not to set 
out a fleet in the spring. In June the Dutch, 
apprised of the defenceless condition of the 
English coasts, brought together a fleet under 
De Ruyter, sailed up the Medway and 
the Thames, took Sheerness and Chatham, 
broke through the defenses there and cap- 
tured or destroyed the English ships they 
found at anchor. There was little to oppose 
them. The Guards were drawn out, the 
young gentlemen about the court enlisted, 
the militia was brought together, and volun- 
teers collected. Some entrenchments were 
dug, and guns were mounted to oppose a 
landing. And the Lord General Monk, who 
had done all that was done, marched up and 
down the bank, before the Dutch ships whose 
big black hulks lay well within the sound of 
his voice, chewing tobacco, swearing like a 
pirate, shaking his heavy cane at the enemy, 
and daring them to land. They did not kill 
him as they might easily have done. From 
their ships came a brisk cannonade, volleys 
of jeers and profanity, and the insulting cries 
of English seamen aboard, deriding their 
fellow-countrymen ashore. And with these 
insults the fleet presently weighed anchor and 
sailed away to patrol the coasts, interrupt 
commerce, and attack other ports. In particu- 



52 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

lar an attempt was made on Landguard fort, 
covering Harwich. There the Dutch fleet was 
taken into the harbour by English pilots, 
some twelve hundred men landed under com- 
mand of an English exile, Colonel Doleman. 
But despite the heroic efforts of the "tall 
English lieutenant-colonel" who led them, 
efforts which extorted the admiration of his 
fellow-countrymen who held the fort against 
him, the Dutch were driven off. At 
Portsmouth and elsewhere similar attempts 
were made but with no greater success and, 
the negotiations then in progress at Breda 
having been expedited by this exploit, the 
Dutch fleet withdrew, leaving England seeth- 
ing with impotent rage and mortification. 
Peace was signed at Breda a month later, on 
terms influenced in no small degree by this 
notable raid, the first in centuries which had 
brought an enemy into the Thames. 

And what had become of our friend Blood 
in these stirring times? It is not to be sup- 
posed that the organizer of Irish rebellion, 
the correspondent of English revolutionary 
committee and Scotch Covenanters, and the 
friend of De Ruyter, sat quietly apart from this 
turmoil of war and conspiracy. Yet, working 
underground as he did, like a mole, it is 
possible to trace his movements only by an 



CROWN- STEALER 53 

occasional upheaval on the surface. It seems 
quite certain that he did not, like so many of 
his countrymen, enlist in the Dutch service 
and that he was not among the four or five 
thousand troops, mostly English, which 
manned their fleet, nor did he, like them, take 
part in the attempt to storm the forts covering 
Harwich. On February 13, 1666, there is a 
secret service note, that Captain Blood may 
be found at Colonel Gilby Carr's in the north 
of Ireland, or at his wife's near Dublin, and 
that the fanatics had secretly held a meeting 
at Liverpool and put off their rising till after 
the engagement of the fleets. On May 3, 
there is a similar note concerning a man 
named Padshall, then prisoner in the Gate- 
house in London, that if he is kept close he 
may discover where Allen, alias Blood, lodges, 
or "Joannes" a li as Mene Tekel, and the note 
indicates their presence in the city. Then 
came the battle of the North Foreland and the 
failure of the Dutch to crush the English fleet. 
On August 24th we learn that these two men, 
Blood and Jones, have gone to Ireland to do 
mischief. There another plot was reported 
forming, which contemplated the seizure of 
Limerick. But this, like that of the preceding 
year on the Tower, both of which bear a 
strong family resemblance to the old design 



54 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

on Dublin Castle, were discovered and de- 
feated. One insurrection alone, as we have 
seen, resulted from this unrest, the rising of 
the Scotch Covenanters in October. And 
among them, according to advices which 
came to the administration, was Blood. He 
had evidently found the Irish plot betrayed 
and with some of his companions, described 
in the accounts of the Pentland rising as "some 
Presbyterian ministers and old officers from 
Ireland," hurried to the only chance of real 
fighting. That was not great. The Coven- 
anters, cooped up in the Pentland Hills, were 
beaten, dispersed and butchered, before con- 
centrated aid could be given them. Blood, 
as usual, escaped. He seems first to have 
sought refuge in Lancashire among his rela- 
tives. Thence he went to Ireland, but, landing 
near Carrickfergus, was so closely pursued 
there by Lord Dungannon that he turned 
again to England, and by the first of the 
following April was reported to the govern- 
ment as being at the house of a rigid Ana- 
baptist in Westmoreland. From there he 
watched the government unravel the web of 
conspiracy he had been so busy weaving. 
Yet even here lies another mystery. In 1665, 
at the time when he might be supposed to 
have been most active against the government, 



CRO WN - STEALER 55 

his wife petitioned, through him apparently, 
for the return of certain property seized from 
her father by one Richard Clively, then in 
prison for killing a bailiff, and in December of 
that year it appears that certain men convicted 
of attending conventicles are to be discharged, 
and the order is endorsed by Blood. More 
than that, there is a petition of September, 
1666, the month of the Fire, noted as 
"Blood's memorial," requesting a permit from 
Secretary Arlington that the "hidden persons, 
especially the spies, be not seized till they are 
disposed of." From such data it has been 
conjectured that Blood was playing a double 
part, that he was, after all, no dangerous 
conspirator but a mere informer. 

And this brings us to a most curious phase 
of this whole movement, the relation of the 
conspirators to the government. It is a 
remarkable fact that no small number of those 
who to all appearances were most deeply im- 
plicated in conspiracy, corresponded at one 
time or another with the administration, in 
many instances furnishing information of each 
other to the secretaries. And this might lead, 
indeed, it has led, many to imagine that the 
whole of these vaunted conspiracies were, after 
all, nothing but what we should call in the 
language of modern crime, "plants," devised 



56 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

and executed by the government itself for 
purposes of its own. There is, in some in- 
stances, evidence of this. But in many others 
it is apparent that this is not a full explanation 
of cases like that of Blood. In that doubtful 
borderland between secret service and con- 
spiracy it was often possible for a man to 
serve both sides. Having engineered a plot 
and acquired money and arms and companions 
to carry it out a man not infrequently found 
himself in the clutches of the law. The officers, 
because they did not have evidence to hang 
him, or because they hoped to gain more from 
him alive than dead, were often disposed to 
offer him his life, even his liberty, in return for 
information. He, on his part, was nearly 
always ready to furnish information in any 
quantity and of any sort, in return for this 
favour. And, if he were shrewd enough, he 
might amuse his captors for years with spec- 
ious stories, with just enough truth to make 
them plausible, and just enough vagueness to 
make them unusable, and ultimately escape, 
meanwhile carrying on the very plans which 
he purported to betray. He might even get 
money from both sides and make a not to be 
despised livelihood from his trade. This is 
very different from the regular informer, who, 
like Alden, received a lump sum or an annuity 



CRO WN - STEALER 5 7 

from the government, and it was a very fair 
profession for a man with enough shrewdness 
and not too much conscience in those troubled 
times. If, indeed, Blood were such a man, as 
seems probable, he represented a considerable 
element in the underground politics of the 
early Restoration. And it is to be observed 
that no small proportion of the men who were 
executed for actual and undeniable complicity 
in the plots were of just this type and had at 
various times been in government service, only 
to be caught red-handed at the end. And that 
such was the case of Blood seems to be proved 
by the fact that the next time he appears 
above the horizon his actions seem to dissipate 
any idea of permanent accommodation with 
the government. 

The arrests and examinations which suc- 
ceeded the abortive conspiracy of 1663 had 
led the secretaries of state into many dark 
ways of subterranean politics, and they had 
steadily pushed their investigations through 
the years of the war, the plague and the fire. 
They had broken up one group after another, 
pursuing a steady policy of enlisting the 
weaker men as informers, and executing or 
keeping in prison the irreconcilables. Among 
those they had thus discovered had been a 
little group, the "desperadoes," the names of 



58 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

some of whom we have come across before, 
Blood, his brother-in-law, Colonel Lockyer, 
Jones, the author of Mene Tekel, and a 
Captain John Mason. The last had been taken, 
had escaped, and some time during the Dutch 
war, was recaptured. On the 20th of July, 
1667, while the Dutch fleets still patrolled the 
English coast and the peace of Breda was just 
about to be signed, warrants were issued from 
the Secretary of State to the Keeper of the 
Tower and the Keeper of Newgate to deliver 
Captain John Mason and Mr. Leving to the 
bearer to be conveyed to York gaol. This 
duty was assigned to a certain Corporal Darcy, 
otherwise unknown to fame, who with some 
seven or eight troopers proceeded to carry out 
his instructions. The little party thus made 
up rode north by easy stages for four days 
without incident. On the fourth day they 
were joined by one Scott, a citizen of York, 
apparently by profession a barber, who, not 
much fancying solitary travel in that some- 
what insecure district, sought safety with the 
soldiers. About seven o'clock on the evening 
of the 25th of August the little party entered 
a narrow lane near the village of Darrington, 
Yorkshire, and there met a most extraordinary 
adventure. As they rode along, doubtless 
with no great caution, they heard behind them 



CROWN- STEALER 59 

a sudden rattle of horses' hoofs. They turned 
to meet a pistol-volley from a small body of 
well armed and mounted men, and a demand 
for their prisoners. Several of the guard were 
wounded at the first fire, and the surprise was 
complete. But Corporal Darcy was not a man 
to be thus handled. He faced his little force 
about, delivered a volley in return, charged his 
assailants briskly and in a moment was the 
center of a sharp hand-to-hand fight. He was 
twice wounded and had his horse shot under 
him. Three of his companions were badly 
hurt. Of the attacking party at least one 
was severely wounded 1 . But when they drew 
off they carried Mason with them. Leving, 
feeling discretion the better part of valour, 
took refuge in a house near by and after the 
fight surrendered himself again to the stout 
corporal. Scott, the innocent by-stander who 
had sought protection with the soldiers, was 

flood's story of this exploit differs in some unim- 
portant details, all reflecting credit on himself. He 
puts the number of his party at four, that of Darcy at 
eight. He tells how he happened on Darcy at an inn 
near Doncaster when almost ready to abandon the pur- 
suit. He explains that two of Mason's party lingered 
behind and were put out of action by Blood and one of 
his companions, who then rode on to demand Mason 
from his guards and maintained an unequal fight with 
the seven men in Darcy's party for some time before 
reinforced by their two fellows. But Darcy's account 
supplemented by Leving's is much clearer and at least 
more plausible. 



60 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

killed outright, the only immediate fatality in 
either party, though some of the troopers died 
later of their wounds. The corporal, despite 
his disabled condition, managed to get one of 
his opponents' horses in place of the one he 
lost, and rode hurriedly into the nearby village 
for help. But the fearful villagers had bar- 
ricaded themselves in their houses, and were 
moved neither by his promises nor his threats 
to join in the pursuit of the desperadoes. He 
had, therefore, to be content with giving 
information to the nearest justice, sending 
after them the hue and cry, and making his 
way to York with his remaining prisoner. 

This, it will be remembered, was one Lev- 
ing. And with him we come upon a character, 
and a plot beneath a plot, which well illustrates 
the times. William Leving, or Levings, or 
Levering, or Leonard Williams, as he was 
variously called, was very far from being the 
man his guards thought him. It must have 
been a surprise to them after the fight to see 
one of their prisoners instead of making off 
with the rescuers, render himself again into 
their hands. But the explanation, though 
the good corporal and his men did not know 
it, nor yet the governor of York gaol to whom 
Leving was delivered, was only too well 
known to Captain Mason's friends, and ex- 



CRO WN - STEALER 61 

plains the strange conduct of the Captain's 
fellow prisoner on other grounds than mere 
cowardice. Leving had been deeply impli- 
cated in the plots of 1661 and 1662, perhaps 
in that of 1663 as well. He had been caught, 
and, to save his life, he had "come in," to use 
an expressive phrase of the time. He was, in 
short, one of the most useful of the govern- 
ment's spies. It was he who had given news 
of Blood and his companions in Ireland. It 
was he who had furnished some of the 
information on which the government was 
then acting, and who proposed to furnish 
more, acquired, possibly, by this very ruse of 
sending him North with Mason. And it was 
he who now gave to the justice and the officers 
the names of the principal rescuers, Captain 
Lockyer, Major Blood, and Timothy Butler, 
and wrote to Secretary Arlington suggesting 
that the ways into London be watched as they 
would probably seek refuge there. It was 
little wonder that Mason's rescuers had sought 
to kill Leving, or that he had sought refuge 
in flight and surrender. 

These indeed availed him little. He was 
kept a prisoner at York even after it appeared 
from his examination who and what he was. 
This was doubtless done more for his own 
safety than for any other reason, but even 



62 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

this was not effectual. Not many weeks later 
he was found dead in his cell. Some time after 
another informer, similarly confined there, 
wrote Arlington a terrified letter begging 
protection or release, "that he might not, like 
Leving, be poisoned in his cell." Thus, it 
appears, his enemies found him out even there. 
And that you may not think too hardly of the 
poor spy, it may be added that on his dead 
body was found a letter, apparently one he was 
engaged on when he died, completely exoner- 
ating certain men then in hiding for the great 
conspiracy. It would, perhaps, be uncharitable 
to hint that this was part of an even more 
subtle plot beneath the other two, and that his 
murderers sought to shield their friends out- 
side by this device. York gaol, in any event, 
was no place to keep men disaffected toward 
the government. From the Lord-lieutenant 
down the place was thick with discontent and 
conspiracy. Indeed no great while before 
the Council had arrested the Lord-lieutenant 
himself, no less a person than one of their own 
number, the great Duke of Buckingham, on 
the charge of corresponding with the sectaries, 
and had confined him for some time in the 
Tower. 

But what, meanwhile, had happened to 
Mason and his friends? On August 8th they 



CRO WN - STEALER 63 

were proclaimed outlaws by name and a 
hundred pounds reward was offered for Lock- 
yer, Butler, Mason and Blood. But they had 
disappeared, as usual. Blood, it was said, had 
been mortally wounded, and was finally re- 
ported dead. That part of the story, at least, 
was greatly exaggerated, and was, no doubt, 
spread by Blood himself. He seems, in fact, 
to have retired to one of his hiding places and 
there recovered from his injuries, which were 
severe. The rest dispersed, and Mason, we 
know, found his way to London where three 
years later he appears in the guise of an inn- 
keeper, still plotting for the inevitable rising. 
To us this seems strange. Our minds conjure 
up a well-ordered city, properly policed and 
thoroughly known. But apart from the fallacy 
of such a view even now, the London of 
Charles II was a far different place from the 
city of to-day in more ways than its size and 
the advances wrought by civilization. The City 
itself was then distant from the Court. The 
long thoroughfare connecting them, now 
the busy Strand, was then what its name im- 
plies still, the way along the river, and was the 
seat of only a few great palaces, like the Savoy, 
and the rising pile of Buckingham. Beside 
what is now Trafalgar Square stood then, as 
now, St. Martin's in the Fields. But the fields 



64 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

have long since fled from Piccadilly and 
Whitehall. Beyond and around in every direc- 
tion outside the purlieus of the Court and the 
liberties of the City, stretched great collections 
of houses and hovels, affording rich hiding 
places for men outside the law. The inns 
abounding everywhere offered like facilities. 
Beneath the very walls of St. Stephen's where 
Parliament devised measures to suppress 
conventicles, those conventicles flourished. 
Among their numbers, among the small and 
secluded country houses round about, among 
the rough watermen and sailors along the 
river, in wide stretching districts where the 
King's writ ran with difficulty or not at all, 
and a man's life was safe only as his strength 
or skill made it so, or, it was whispered, even 
among some of the great houses like that of 
the Duke of Buckingham, men flying from 
justice might find safety enough. 

Later Mason seems to have been joined in 
London by Blood and the old practices were 
renewed. But the Major, for Blood had now 
by some subterranean means arrived at that 
title, was apparently not wholly content with 
this. He retired, it would appear, to the little 
village of Romford, in Surrey, and there, 
under the name of Allen or Ayloffe, set up — 
amazinsf choice anions' all the thing's he 



CRO WN - STEALER 65 

might have chosen — as a physician. His son- 
in-law was apprenticed to an apothecary, and 
thus, with every appearance of quiet and 
sobriety, the outlaw began life again. But it 
was not for long, at any rate. Most likely, 
indeed, this whole business, if it ever existed 
at all, was a sham. For on May 28th, 1670, 
we find Secretary Trevor, who had succeeded 
Arlington in office, ordering the Provost 
Marshal to search out and take in custody 
Henry Danvers and William Allen, alias 
Blood. In December of that same year came 
the assault on Ormond, with which our story 
began, and Blood, under his alias, was for the 
third time proclaimed an outlaw, and for the 
third time had a price set on his head. Surely, 
you will say, this is enough of that impudent 
scoundrel who so long disturbed the slumber 
of His Majesty's secretaries, and flouted the 
activities of their agents. And, in spite of the 
stir raised by the attempt on Ormond, if Blood 
had disappeared after that for the last time, he 
would not have lived again in the pages of 
history. For that he is indebted to the great 
exploit which at once ended his career of crime 
and raised him above the ordinary herd of 
outlaws and criminals. 

At the time of which we write the Tower 
of London served even more numerous and 



66 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

important purposes than it does to-day. It 
was then, as now, a depository of arms and 
ammunition, and the quarters of a considerable 
body of troops, which served to overawe 
possible disturbance in the city. But in 1670 
it was also the principal prison for political 
offenders, and it was the place where the state 
regalia, the crown, the orb, and the scepter, 
were kept. Then, as now, the various func- 
tions of the great fortress were quite distinct. 
The visitor of to-day passes through a wide 
courtyard to the main edifice, the White 
Tower of William the Conqueror, whose 
chambers are filled with curious weapons and 
armour. He may climb the stone stairs to see 
the grim apartments once reserved for men 
reckoned dangerous to the state, and gaze 
with what awe he can muster upon the imita- 
tion crown jewels set out for the delectation of 
the tourists. Everywhere he finds in evi- 
dence the guardians of these treasures, the 
unobtrusive attendant, the picturesque beef- 
eater, the omnipresent policeman, and if he 
looks down from the high windows he may 
see far below him the red tunics or white 
undercoats of the soldiers on parade or at 
work. In some measure this was true in 
1670, and it is to this spot we must now turn 
our attention. We have already seen some 



CRO WN - STEALER 67 

of the characters in this story taken to or from 
the custody of the lieutenant of the Tower, 
and our steps in trace of our hero or villain, 
as you choose to call him, have often led 
perilously near its grim portals. At last they 
are to go inside. 

Among the various functionaries in and 
about the Tower in the year 1670 was one 
Edwards, the Keeper of the Regalia, an old 
soldier who lived with his wife and daughter 
within the walls, his son being away at the 
wars on the Continent. Some time after the 
attack on the Duke of Ormond there appeared 
one day, among the visitors who flocked to 
see the sights of the stronghold, a little party 
of strangers from the country, a clergyman, 
his wife and his nephew. They visited the 
usual places of interest, and presently under 
Edwards' guidance, were taken to see the 
regalia. They were pleasant folk and much in- 
terested in what they saw. But unfortunately 
while looking at the royal paraphernalia the 
lady fell ill with some sort of a chill or convul- 
sion. Her husband and nephew and Edwards 
were greatly alarmed. They carried her to Ed- 
wards' apartments where his wife and daughter 
took her in charge, and administered cordials 
and restoratives until she recovered. The 
clergyman was deeply grateful. He rewarded 



68 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

Edwards generously for his attention and they 
were all profuse in acknowledging the kind- 
ness of the Keeper's family. Nor did the 
matter end here. From this little incident 
there sprang up an acquaintance which rapidly 
ripened into friendship between the two 
families. The clergyman and his nephew came 
in from time to time on visits. The nephew 
was young and dashing, the daughter was 
pretty and pleasing 1 . They were obviously 
attracted to each other, and their elders looked 
on the dawning romance with favor. So 
rapidly did the matter progress that the 
clergyman presently proposed a marriage be- 
tween the young couple. Edwards was not 
unwilling and on the 9th of May, 1671, the 
clergyman, his nephew, and a friend, with two 
companions rode up about seven in the morn- 
ing to make the final arrangements. Mrs. 
Edwards, however, was not prepared to meet 
guests at so early an hour and some delay 
occurred. To fill in the time the clergyman 
suggested that Edwards might show the 
regalia to his friend who had never seen it. 
So the four mounted the steps to the room 
where the treasures were kept. Edwards 



lr rhe Somers Tracts account says that it was Ed- 
wards' son and a pretended daughter of Blood, but this 
is almost certainly incorrect. 



CRO WN - STEALER 69 

went on before to take the regalia out for 
exhibition. But as he stooped over the chest 
to get them he was seized suddenly from 
behind, a cloak was thrown over his head, he 
was bound and gagged, knocked on the head 
with a mallet, and all these measures having 
failed to prevent his giving an alarm, he was 
finally stabbed. One of the men with him 
seized the crown and bent it so that it went 
under his cloak. The other put the orb in the 
pocket of his baggy breeches, and began to 
file the scepter in two that it might be more 
easily carried. But as they were thus busied, 
by a coincidence, surely the strangest out of 
a play, at this precise instant Edwards' son, 
Talbot, returned from the wars, bringing a 
companion with him. They accosted the third 
man who had remained as a sentinel at the 
foot of the stairs. He gave the alarm, the two 
men ran down the stairs and all three hurried 
off toward the Tower Gate. But there fortune 
deserted them. Edwards roused from his 
stupor, tore out the gag and shouted "Treason 
and Murder!" The daughter hurried to his 
side and thence to Tower Hill crying, 
"Treason! the crown is stolen!" Young 
Edwards and his companion, Captain Beck- 
man, took up the alarm and hurried to the 
Keeper's side. Gaining from him some idea 



70 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

of the situation they rushed down and saw the 
thieves just going out the gate. Edwards 
drew his pistols and shouted to the sentinels. 
But the warders were apparently terrified and 
young Edwards, Beckman, and others who 
joined the pursuit closed in on the outlaws. 
They in turn aided the confusion by also 
crying "Stop Thief" so that some were 
deceived into believing the parson a party to 
the pursuit. Beckman seems to have caught 
him and wrestled with him for the crown, 
while a servant seized one of the other men. 
Beckman and Blood had a most "robustious 
struggle." Blood had fired one pistol at Beck- 
man, and when they grappled drew a second 
and fired again, but missed both times. The ac- 
complices waiting outside, mounted and rode 
off in different directions. But the pursuit was 
too close. Two of the three principals having 
been taken almost at the gate, the third might 
have got away but was thrown from his horse 
by running into a projecting cart pole, and 
captured at no great distance. The other 
accomplices, two apparently, seem to have 
escaped. The prisoners were brought back to 
the Tower at once and identified. To the 
astonishment of their captors the clergyman 
was found to be our old friend Blood, the so- 



CRO WN - STEALER 7 i 

called nephew was his son 1 , the third man an 
Anabaptist silk dyer, named Parrel. Warrants 
were immediately made out to the governor 
of the Tower, Sir John Robinson, for their 
imprisonment; Blood's on the ground of out- 
lawry for treason and other great and heinous 
crimes in England; young Blood's and Par- 
ret's for dangerous crimes and practices. 
Thus fell the mighty Blood in this unique 
attempt at crime. The sensation caused by 
his extraordinary undertaking was naturally 
tremendous. Newsletters and correspondence 
of the time are all filled with the details of 
the exploit, for the moment the gravest affairs 
of state sunk into insignificance before the 
interest in this most audacious venture. An 
infinite number of guesses were hazarded at 
the motive for the theft, for it was felt that 



'Though there is some confusion here. The cob- 
bler who seized him exclaimed, "This is Tom Hunt 
who was in the bloody business against the Duke of 
Ormond," and Edwards' account to Talbot (Biog. Britt. 
II, 366) speaks of him as Blood's son-in-law. But his 
pardon was certainly made out to Thomas Blood, Jr., 
and there is no mention of the name Hunt. The 
explanation probably is that he was Thomas Hunt, 
Blood's son-in-law, but was called Blood by his father- 
in-law, and, like many men in that time, used either 
of the two names indifferently. It appears from 
Talbot's account that the cobbler and a constable who 
came up took Hunt to a nearby Justice of the Peace, 
one Smith, who was about to release him when news 
came of the attempt on the crown, and Hunt was then 
taken back to the Tower. 



72 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

mere robbery would not account for it. It 
was even suspected that it was a prelude to the 
assassination of the king and the proclamation 
of a usurper who hoped to strengthen himself 
by the possession of the regalia. This view 
was reenforced by the fact that the Chancel- 
lor's house was entered at about the same time 
and nothing taken but the Great Seal. The 
darkest suspicions were afloat, and the relief 
at the capture of the noted outlaw and the 
failure of his attempt on the crown was intensi- 
fied by the sense of having escaped from some 
vague and terrible danger which would have 
menaced the state had he succeeded. Broad- 
sides and squibs of all sorts were inspired by 
the exploit. Among others the irrepressible 
Presbyterian satirist, Andrew Marvell, char- 
acteristically improved the occasion to make 
it the subject of a satire on the Church, as 
follows: 
ON BLOOD'S STEALING THE CROWN. 
When daring Blood his rent to have regained 
Upon the English diadem restrained 
He chose the cassock, surcingle and gozvn, 
The fittest mask for one that robs the crozvn: 
But his lay pity underneath prevailed. 
And zvhilst he saved the keeper's life he failed; 
With the priest's vestment had he but put on 
The prelate's cruelty, the crown had gone. 



CRO WN ■ STEALER 73 

The proceedings in Blood's case, therefore, 
excited extraordinary interest, which was 
not lessened by the unusual circumstances 
surrounding it. The prisoners were first 
brought before Sir Gilbert Talbot, the provost- 
marshal 1 . But Blood refused absolutely to 
answer any leading questions put him by that 
official as to his motives, accomplices, and 
the ultimate purpose of his exploit. This 
naturally deepened the interest in the matter, 
and increased the suspicion that there was 
more in it than appeared on the surface, the 
more so as the outlaw declared he would speak 
only with the king himself. To the further 
astonishment of the world this bold request 
was granted. Three days after his arrest, on 
May 12, he was taken by the king's express 
order to Whitehall and there examined by 
Charles, the Duke of York, and a select few 
of the royal family and household. The 
proceeding was not quite as unusual as it 
seemed, for in the earlier years of the Restora- 
tion it had been fairly common and the king 
had proved a master in the art of examination. 
But it had been given up of late and its revival 
seemed to indicate a matter of unusual gravity. 
"The man need not despair," said Ormond 



'He seems also to have been examined by Dr. 
Chamberlain and Sir William Waller. 



74 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

to Southwell when he heard that the king was 
to give Blood a hearing, "for surely no king 
would wish to see a malefactor but with inten- 
tion to pardon him." But this opinion was 
not general and his conviction was never 
doubted by the world at large. A few days 
after his examination Secretary Williamson's 
Dublin correspondent wrote him that there 
was little news in Ireland save the talk of 
Blood's attempt on the crown, and he voiced 
the prevailing sentiment when he "hoped that 
Blood would receive the reward of his many 
wicked attempts." The coffee houses talked 
of nothing else and all London prepared to 
gratify itself with the spectacle of the execu- 
tion of the most daring criminal of the time 1 . 

But in this, at any rate for the present, they 
were to be disappointed. Blood was remanded 
to the Tower, and there held for some time 
while certain other steps were taken to probe 
the case deeper. Two months later Sir John 



: It was hinted that Buckingham had set Blood 
on to steal the crown in pursuance of some of his mad 
schemes for ascending the throne. And it is also 
charged that the King himself had employed the out- 
law to get the jewels, pawn or sell them abroad and 
divide the proceeds. Beside such suggestions as these 
even Blood's letter sinks into the commonplace. At 
all events, as in the Ormond affair, it was and is 
generally believed that there were other influences at 
work behind his exploit. 



CRO WN - STEALER 75 

Robinson wrote to Secretary Williamson that 
Lord Arlington had dined with him the Satur- 
day before, and had given into his hands 
certain warrants, not as every one supposed 
for Blood's execution, but for his release and 
that of his son. Two weeks later a grant of 
pardon was issued to him for "all the treasons, 
murders, felonies, etc., committed by him 
alone or with others from the day of His 
Majesty's accession, May 29, 1660, to the 
present," and this was followed by a similar 
grant to his son. Later, to complete this 
incredible story, his estates were restored to 
him, he was given a place at Court, and a 
pension of five hundred pounds a year in Irish 
lands. Not long afterward the indefatigable 
diner-out, John Evelyn, notes in his diary that, 
dining with the Lord Treasurer, Arlington, a 
few days before, he had met there, among the 
guests, Colonel Thomas Blood. It is no 
wonder that a Londoner wrote in early August 
of that same year: "On Thursday last in the 
courtyard at Whitehall, I saw walking, in a 
new suit and periwig, Mr. Blood exceeding 
pleasant and jocose — a tall rough-boned man, 
with small legs, a pock-frecken face with 
little hollow blue eyes." And in September 
Blood had acquired enough credit, apparently, 
not only to get a new grant of pardon con- 



76 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

firmed for himself and his son, but others for 
certain of his former companions as well. 

What is the explanation of this extraord- 
inary circumstance? It is a question no one 
has yet answered satisfactorily, and it has re- 
mained one of the many unsolved mysteries of 
the period, along with the murder of Sir 
Edmund Berry Godfrey and the Popish Plot. 
If we knew fully we could clear up many dark 
ways of Restoration politics. We have certain 
second-hand accounts of what took place in 
that memorable interview between the vaga- 
bond king and the Irish outlaw, from which 
we may get some light on the matter. The 
latter "as gallant and hardy a villain as ever 
herded with the sneaking sect of Anabaptists," 
in the words of a contemporary, we are told, 
"answered so frankly and undauntedly that 
every one stood amazed." Snatches of Blood's 
comments on his most recent exploit have 
floated down to us. "It was, at all events, 
a stroke for a crown," had been his remark 
to Beckman when he was captured, a cool 
witticism which must have pleased the wittiest 
of monarchs when it was repeated to him. 
"Who are your associates?" he is said to have 
been asked, to which he replied that he "would 
never betray a friend's life nor deny guilt in 
defense of his own." Blood explained to the 



CROWN - STEALER 77 

king, it is said, that he thought the crown 
was worth a hundred thousand pounds, when, 
in fact the whole regalia, had he known it, 
only cost six thousand. He told the story of 
his life and adventures with much freedom, 
and it must have been a good story to hear. 
He confessed to the attempt on Dublin Castle, 
to the rescue of Mason and the kidnapping 
of Ormond. There was found on his person a 
"little book in which he had set clown sixty 
signal deliverances from eminent dangers." 
And one may remark, in passing, that it is a 
pity that it, instead of the dagger with which 
Edwards was stabbed, is not preserved in a 
London museum. Perhaps it may turn up 
some day, and allow us the whole story as he 
told it to Charles. Several about the monarch 
contributed their information of Blood. Prince 
Rupert, in particular, recalled him as "a very 
stout, bold fellow in the royal service," twenty 
years before. But the thing to which rumor 
credited his escape and which was reported to 
have made his fortune, was a story in connec- 
tion with the king himself. A plot had been 
laid by Blood and his accomplices, according 
to his account, to kill the king while he was 
bathing in the river at Battersea. But as 
they hid in the reeds, said the outlaw turned 
courtier, with their victim before them, the 



78 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

majesty of royalty was too great — he could 
not fire the shot. But, he continued, there 
was a band to which he belonged, three 
hundred strong, pledged to avenge his death 
on the king, in case of his conviction. 

Doubtless truth lurks amid all this. It 
may all be true. Even so there is hardly 
material here for pardon, much less for re- 
ward. Other reasons not known at that time, 
must be assigned for such royal clemency. 
One, perhaps, lies in this letter written six 
days after the examination: 

"May 19, 1 67 1. Tower. Col. Blood to 
the King. 

May it please your Majesty these may 
tell and inform you that it was Sir Thomas 
Osborne and Sir Thomas Littleton, both 
your treasurers for your Navy, that set 
me to steal your crown, but he that feed 
me with money was James Littleton, Esq. 
'Tis he that pays under your treasurer at 
the Pay Office. He is a very bold vil- 
lainous fellow, a very rogue, for I and my 
companions have had many a hundred 
pounds of him of your Majesty's money 
to encourage us upon this attempt. I 
pray no words of this confession, but 
know your friends. Not else but am your 



CRO WN - STEALER 79 

Majesty's prisoner and if life spared your 
dutiful subject whose name is Blood, 
which I hope is not that your Majesty 
seeks after." 

Surely of the two qualities then so necessary 
in the court, wit and effrontery, a plentiful 
supply was not lacking to a man who could 
write such a letter in such a situation. And 
his daring, his effrontery and his adventures 
undoubtedly made a great impression on the 
king. 

Another reason for the treatment Blood 
received was, strangely enough, his powerful 
influence at court. It will be remembered, 
in connection with the rescue of Mason, that 
the great Duke of Buckingham, Lord-lieuten- 
ant of Yorkshire, and one of the men highest 
in favour at court and in the country at large, 
had been arrested on a charge of conspiring 
with the fanatics against the throne. He had 
been released, and was now not only again in 
the royal favour, but was one of the leading 
men in the ministry of the day, the so-called 
Cabal. It was he who secured the interview 
with the king for Blood, and he doubtless lent 
his influence for mercy. And there was, 
perhaps, a deeper reason for this. Buckingham 
was the bitter enemy of Ormond. The king, 
whatever his inclination, could not, in decency, 



8o COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

pardon Blood, after his confessing to the at- 
tack on Ormond, without at least some 
pretense of consulting the man who had been 
so maltreated. He sent, therefore, to Ormond 
to ask him to forgive Blood. Lord Arlington 
carried the message with those private reasons 
for the request, which still puzzles us. Blood, 
meanwhile, under direction, wrote a letter to 
Ormond, expressing his regret in unmeasured 
terms. The old Duke's reply was at once a 
lesson in dignity and loyalty. "If the king 
could forgive an attempt on his crown," he 
said proudly to Arlington, "I myself may 
easily forgive an attempt on my life, and since 
it is his Majesty's pleasure, that is reason 
sufficient for me, and your lordship may well 
spare the rest of the explanations." But 
Ormond's son, and his biographer, took refuge 
in no such dignity. The latter declares 
roundly that Buckingham instigated the at- 
tempt on his master. And not long after the 
affair, the former, the gallant young Earl of 
Ossory, coming into the royal presence and 
seeing the Duke of Buckingham standing by 
the king, his colour rose, and he spoke to 
this effect: 

"My lord, I know well that you are at the 
bottom of this late attempt of Blood's upon 
my father; and therefore I give you fair 



CRO IV N - S TEALER 8 1 

warning if my father comes to a violent end 
by sword or pistol, or if he dies by the hand 
of a ruffian, or by the more secret way of 
poison, I shall not be at a loss to know the 
first author of it; I shall consider you as the 
assassin; I shall treat you as such; and wher- 
ever I meet you I shall pistol you, though you 
stood behind the king's chair; and I tell it 
you in his Majesty's presence that you may be 
sure I shall keep my word." 

These were brave words, and had they 
come from other lips than those of the 
Restoration Bayard, might have been re- 
garded as mere bravado. But he had proved 
his courage on too many occasions to count 
this lightly. Scarce five years before, while 
visiting Sir Thomas Clifford, in the country, 
he had heard the guns of the fleet off Harwich, 
in the fierce battle of Lowestoft. With no 
commission and with no connection with 
either the navy or the government, he had 
mounted a horse, and, accompanied by his 
host, had ridden to the shore and put off in 
an open boat to the English fleet to take his 
part in one of the hardest day's fighting the 
English fleet ever saw. The word of such a 
man, conspicuous for his honesty as for his 
courage, was not to be lightly set aside. And 
whether this threat was the cause or not, or 



82 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

whether Buckingham was really not respons- 
ible for an assault which might have been at- 
tributed to Blood's desire for revenge on the 
man who had confiscated his estates and 
hanged his brother-in-law, the old Duke was 
not further molested. 

But, apart from these matters, there is 
another, and one may be permitted to think, 
a more serious reason for Blood's escape. It 
lies in the political situation of the time. 
This was, in many ways, peculiar. Some 
four years before the events we have narrated 
in connection with the theft of the crown the 
administration of Clarendon had fallen and 
had been succeeded by that of a group called 
the Cabal, whose chief bond of union lay in 
the fact that they were none of them Anglicans 
and they were all opposed to Clarendon. 
They, with the aid of the king, who, largely 
through tenderness to the Catholics, had 
never favoured the persecuting policy, had 
relaxed the execution of the Clarendonian 
measures, and had thus far succeeded in 
preventing the re-enactment of the Con- 
venticle Act which had expired some years 
before. The Anglicans in Parliament had 
been no less insistent that the old policy be 
maintained and that the Act be renewed. 
The king, now supported by his ministers, 



CRO WN - STEALER 83 

was no less eager to renew the attempt which 
had failed under Clarendon, and revive the 
dispensing power, whereby the toleration of 
Catholic and Protestant Nonconformist alike 
would rest in his own hands. This situation 
was complicated by the fact that king and 
ministers alike were bent on another war with 
Holland. It seemed highly desirable to them 
to pacify the still discontented Nonconformists 
before entering on such a struggle, particu- 
larly since the government had little money 
and must rely on the city, which was strongly 
Nonconformist in its sentiments. It seemed 
no less necessary to destroy, if possible, that 
group of extremists whose conspiracies were 
doubly dangerous in the face of a war. To 
gain information of the feelings of the dis- 
senting bodies, and discover what terms would 
be most acceptable to them, to track down and 
bring in the fierce and desperate men from 
whom trouble might be anticipated, to dis- 
cover if possible the connection that existed 
between the sects and those in high places, 
these were objects of the highest importance. 
They needed such a man as Blood. And it 
seemed worth while to Charles to tame 
this fierce bird of prey to his service to 
achieve such ends as he contemplated. Some 
such thought evidently occurred to the king 



84 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

during the examination. "What," he is said 
to have asked bluntly at its close, "What if 
I should give you your life?" Blood's reply 
is almost epic, "I would endeavor to deserve 
it." 

This, at any rate, became his immediate 
business. Almost at once he was taken in 
hand by the government, and it was soon 
reported that he was making discoveries. The 
arrest of three of Cromwell's captains is noted 
among the first fruits of his information. And 
close upon the heels of his pardon came the 
arrest and conviction of some twenty-four or 
twenty-five irreconcilables 1 . This may or 
may not show the hand of the new govern- 
ment agent, but the circumstantial evidence 
is strong. It is certain, however, that through- 
out the winter of 167 1-2 Secretary Wil- 
liamson was in close consultation with Blood 
over the situation and the demands of 
Dissenters, and he filled many pages of good 
paper with cryptic abbreviations of these long 
and important interviews, in which are to be 
found many curious secrets of conventicles 
and conspiracies, of back-stairs politics and 
the underground connections of men high in 
the councils of the nation. From Blood, from 



Variously noted as 20, 24 and 27. 



CROWN- STEALER 85 

the Presbyterian ministers, through one or 
two of their number, and from sources to 
which these communications led, the court 
and ministry gradually obtained the informa- 
tion from which a great and far-reaching 
policy was framed. This took form in the 
beginning of the following year in the famous 
Declaration of Indulgence. This, taking the 
control of the Nonconformist situation from 
Parliament, placed it in the hands of the king. 
Licenses were to be issued to ministers to 
preach, to meeting-houses, and to other places 
for worship which was not according to the 
forms or under the direction of the Anglican 
church. The policy, owing to the bitter 
opposition of Parliament, lasted but a few 
months, but it marked an era in English 
history. The rioting which had accompanied 
the revival of the Conventicle Act, and which 
had encouraged the government to try the 
licensing system, disappeared. For a few 
months entire religious toleration prevailed, 
and, though Parliament forced the king to 
withdraw his Declaration, the old persecution 
was never revived. In this work Blood's 
share was not small. He not merely furnished 
information, he became one of the recognized 
channels through whom licenses were ob- 
tained, and in the few months while they were 



86 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

being issued he drove a thriving trade. And 
with one other activity which preceded the 
Dutch war he was doubtless closely connected. 
This was the issuing of pardons to many of 
those old Cromwellians who had sought refuge 
in Holland a dozen years before. No small 
number of these, taking advantage of the 
government's new lenience, came back from 
exile with their families and goods, and took 
up their residence again in England. Thus 
Colonels Burton and Kelsey, Berry and Des- 
borough, Blood's brother-in-law Captain 
Lockyer, Nicholas, Sweetman and many others 
found pardons and were received again into 
England. "Through his means," wrote Mrs. 
Goffe to her husband, "as is reputed, Des- 
borough and Maggarborn [Major Bourne?] 
and Lewson of Yarmouth is come out of 
Holland and Kelsi and have their pardon and 
liberty to live quietly, no oath being imposed 
on them." "The people of God have much 
liberty and meetings are very free and they 
sing psalms in many places and the King is 
very favourable to many of the fanatics and 
to some of them he was highly displeased 
with." It might have been that the regicides 
in New England could have returned but the 
cautious Mrs. Goffe warned her husband not 
to rely on the favourable appearance of affairs. 



CRO WN - STEALER 87 

"It is reported," she wrote, "that Whally and 
Goffe and Ludlow is sent for but I think they 
have more wit than to trust them." 

In the third great measure of the period, 
the Stop of the Exchequer, Blood naturally 
had no part, but when the war actually broke 
out, he found a new field of usefulness in 
obtaining information from Holland, in ferret- 
ing out the tracts which the Dutch smuggled 
into England, in watching for the signs of 
conspiracy at home. Thus he lived and 
flourished. His residence was in Bowling 
Alley, now Bowling Street, leading from 
Dean's Yard to Tufton Street, Westminster, 
convenient to Whitehall. His favorite resort 
is said to have been White's Coffee House, 
near the Royal Exchange 1 . His sinister face 
and ungraceful form became only too familiar 
about the court. His bearing was resented 
by many as insolent. He was both hated and 
feared as he moved through the atmosphere 
of intrigue by which the court was surrounded, 
getting and revealing" to the king information 
of the conspirators, of the Dutch, and the 
other enemies of royalty. His was not a 
pleasant trade and there were undoubtedly 

1 Thus Wheatley and Cunningham. John Timbs, in 
his Romance of London, says Blood lived first in 
Whitehall, then, according to tradition, in a house on 
the corner of Peter and Tufton Streets. 



88 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

many who, for good reasons of their own, 
wished him out of the way. There were 
many who contrasted his reward with the 
neg-lect of the unfortunate Edwards, and who 
railed at Blood and the king alike. Roch- 
ester allowed himself the usual liberty of 
rhymed epigram: 

Blood that tvcars treason in his face 

Villain complete in parson's gown 

Hoiv much is he at court in grace 

For stealing Ormond and the crozvnf 

Since loyalty does no man good 

Let's steal the King and out do Blood. 

There were doubtless many more who 
regretted that the king had not bestowed 
on him a reward that was at one time con- 
templated, the governorship of a colony, the 
hotter the better. In that event America 
would have had some direct share in the 
career of England's most distinguished crim- 
inal. And even so it is by no means certain 
she would have suffered greatly in comparison 
with the situation of some colonies under the 
governors they actually had. But Blood was 
far too useful at home to be wasted on a dis- 
tant dependency. And, on the whole, the out- 
law seems to have fully justified his existence 
and even his pardon, as an outer sentinel along 



CRO WN - STEALER 89 

the line of guards between King Charles and 
his enemies. That he was so hated is perhaps, 
in some sort a measure of his usefulness. For 
the times when men in the ministry or just 
out of the ministry conspired or connived at 
conspiracy against the government and held 
communication with an enemy in arms to 
compel their sovereign to their will are not 
those in which a ruler will be too squeamish 
about his means, least of all such a ruler as 
Charles. 

In such wise Blood lived until 1679. Then 
he seems to have fallen foul of the Duke of 
Buckingham, who had played such a great 
part in his career. He, with three others, was 
accused by the Duke of swearing falsely to a 
monstrous charge against his Grace and sued 
for the crushing sum of ten thousand pounds. 
A most curious circumstance brought out by 
this trial connects our story with the literature 
of to-day. In Scott's novel, Peveril of the 
Peak, it will be remembered that the villain 
is one Christian, brother of the deemster of 
the Isle of Man, who was executed by the 
Countess of Derby. This man, a most accom- 
plished scoundrel, is there portrayed as the 
familiar Duke of Buckingham, who plays a 
part in the romance very like that which he 
plays in this story of real life. With the 



90 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

appearance of the later editions of the novel 
the author, in response to many inquiries 
concerning the authenticity of the various 
characters there portrayed, added some notes 
in which he gave some account of the originals 
of many of his characters. Concerning Chris- 
tian, however, he declared that he was a wholly 
original creation, that, so far as he knew, no 
such man had ever existed, and that he was 
purely a fictitious character. Though, strange 
as it may seem, one of the men indicted with 
Blood in this action at law, was, in fact, named 
Christian, and Scott knew of him. And while 
he may not have played the part assigned to 
him in the story, he had for some time been 
in the service of the Duke, and to have had 
a reputation, if not a character, which might 
well have served as a model for the villain of 
the novel. 

The motive of Buckingham in beginning 
this suit is obscure, but it was suspected that 
he thought by this means to hush up certain 
accusations which might have been brought 
against his own machinations, then scarcely to 
be defended in the light of day. The curious 
and unusual procedure and the absurdity of 
the charge which one might suppose it be- 
neath the dignity of so great a nobleman to 
press in such fashion against such men, lends 



CR O WN - S TEALER 9 » 

a certain colour to this suspicion. In any 
event the suit was tried and Blood was duly 
found guilty. But he was never punished. 
He fell sick in the summer of 1680 and, after 
two weeks of suffering, died August 24, in 
his house on the southwest corner of Bowling 
Alley. He was firm and undaunted to the last, 
and looked death in the face at the end with 
the same courage he had exhibited many 
times before. All England was then in the 
throes of the excitement of the Popish Plot 
and the Exclusion Bill, and civil war seemed 
almost in sight. Whig and Tory stood 
arrayed against each other, with the crown as 
the prize between. It would not be supposed 
that the death of the old adventurer could 
have caused more than a passing ripple of 
interest. Quite the contrary was the case. 
Strange end of a strange story, the mystery 
which surrounded him during his life did not 
altogether end with his death and burial. 
Even that, said many, was but one of the old 
fox's tricks. And to prove that it was not his 
body which had been interred in the adjoining 
churchyard of New Chapel, Tothill Fields, 
the grave was opened after some days, the 
corpse carried before a coroner and identified 
by the curious fact that one of the thumbs was 
twice the natural size, a peculiarity which it 



92 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

seems would have betrayed Blood many times 
during his life. 

Thus ended the troubled life of a mysterious 
man. If his end was not peace it certainly was 
not worse than his beginning. Not a few 
persons must have breathed easier at the final 
burial of the secrets which died with him. He 
was not without some literary remains, chief 
of which was a Life, which though not written 
by his own hand, gives evidence of having 
been written, either under his direction, or 
from material furnished by him. It con- 
tains, as perhaps its chief matter of interest 
outside the facts here included, not many of 
which adorn its pages, a story of which Blood 
seems to have been very proud. It is that on 
one occasion some of the men in his following 
of desperadoes proved unfaithful. He caused 
them to be seized and brought before him for 
trial in a public house. There, after the case 
had been set forth and the arguments made, 
he sentenced them to death, but later reprieved 
them. This, of all the good stories he might 
have told, is left to us as almost his sole 
contribution to the account of his adventures. 
For the rest, his memory was promptly em- 
balmed in prose and verse, mostly libellous 
and wholly worthless, from any standpoint, of 



CRO WN - STEALER 93 

which the following sample may suffice 
whether of history or literature: 

"At last our famous hero, Colonel Blood, 
Seeing his projects all zvill do no good, 
And that success was still to him denied 
Fell sick zuith grief, broke his great heart and 
died." 

But there is still one curious circumstance 
about his family which it would be too bad 
not to insert here, and with which this story 
may fittingly conclude. It concerns one of his 
sons whom we have not met, Holcroft Blood. 
This youth, evidently inheriting the paternal 
love of adventure, ran away from home at the 
age of twelve. He found his way, through an 
experience as a sailor, into the French army. 
After the Revolution of 1688 he became an 
engineer in the English service, owing chiefly 
to his escape from a suit brought against him 
by his enemies, which was intended to ruin 
him but by accident attracted to him instead 
the notice of the man with whose visit to 
England our story began, now William the 
Third of England and Holland. This became 
the foundation of his fortunes. In the English 
service young Blood rose rapidly through the 
long period of wars which followed. He gained 
the praise of the great Marlborough, and ulti- 



94 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

mately became the principal artillery com- 
mander of the allied forces in the War of the 
Spanish Succession, dying, full of honors, in 
1707. Meanwhile Ormond's grandson and 
heir, the second Duke, distinguished himself 
likewise in that same war in other quarters, 
and bade fair to take high rank as a com- 
mander. But on the death of Queen Anne he 
took the Jacobite side, was driven into exile, 
and died many years later, a fugitive supported 
by a Spanish and Papal pension. Thus did 
Fate equalize the two families within a 
generation. 

I said at the beginning that this was to 
be the story of the greatest rascal in English 
history, but I am not so sure that it is, after all. 
It may be only the story of a brave man on 
the wrong side of politics and society. For 
his courage and ability, thrown on the other 
side of the scale, would, without doubt, have 
given him a far different place in history than 
the one he now occupies. What is the moral 
of it all? I do not know, and I am inclined 
to fall back on the dictum of a great man in 
a far different connection: "I do not think it 
desirable that we should always be drawing 
morals or seeking for edification. Of great 
men it may truly be said, 'It does good only 
to look at them.' " 



CROWN- STEALER 95 

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 

The story here told has been related else- 
where though not in such detail nor, so far 
as I am aware, from precisely this point of 
view. Apart from the accounts in encyclo- 
pedias and biographical dictionaries, of which 
by far the best for its day is the Biographia 
Brittanica, the most accessible source of in- 
formation is the article on Blood in the Dic- 
tionary of National Biography and the fullest 
details are to be found in W. Hepworth 
Dixon's Her Majesty's Tower, VOL. IV, 
pp. 119, and in a note (No. 35) to Scott's 
Peveril of the Peak, in which novel the Colonel 
plays enough part to have a pen-portrait drawn 
of him by Scott in a speech by Buckingham. 

These, of course, touch but lightly on the 
broader aspects of the matter. The sources 
for nearly all the statements made in the 
foregoing narrative are to be found in the 
Calendars of State Papers, Domestic and 
Ireland, 1660- 1 675, in the Reports of the 
Historical Manuscripts Commission, especial- 
ly in the Ormond Papers and in Carte's Life 
of Ormond. In 1680 was published a pamph- 
let entitled Remarks on the Life and DeatJi 
of the Famed Mr. Blood, etc., signed R. H., 
which includes, besides a general running ac- 
count of several of the outlaw's chief adven- 



96 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

tures, a curious and obscure story of the 
Buckingham incident from which it is practi- 
cally impossible to get any satisfaction. To 
this is added a Postscript written some time 
after the body of the work and describing 
Blood's illness, death and burial. This tract 
appears to have been written by some one 
who knew Blood, and in places seems to 
represent his own story. It would perhaps be 
too much to assume from the similarity of 
the initials that it was composed by that 
Richard Halliwell, Hallowell or Halloway, the 
tobacco cutter of Frying-Pan Alley, Petticoat 
Lane, whose name, or alias, appears among 
those often connected with Blood in his 
enterprises. Sir Gilbert Talbot's narrative of 
Blood's adventures, especially valuable for its 
full account of the attempt on the crown, is to 
be found in Strype's Continuation of Stowes 
Survey of London. Some details as to Blood's 
London haunts may be found in Wheatley 
and Cunningham's London, Past and Present. 
There are several portraits of Blood extant 
of which the one in the National Portrait 
Gallery, painted by Gerard Soest, is the best. 
This is reproduced in Cust's National Portrait 
Galle?y,V0L.l, p. 163. Another which appeared 
in the Literary Magazine, for the year 1791, 
is evidently a copy of the one prefixed to this 



CROWN -STEALER 97 

study. This is reproduced from a contempor- 
ary mezzotint, which is described in Smith's 
British Mezzotint o Portraits, (Henry Sotheran 
& Co., Loud., 1884), as follows: 

Thomas Blood. 

H. L. in oval frame directed to left facing 
towards and looking to front, long hair, 
cravat, black gown. Under: G. White Fecit. 
Coll Blood. Sold by S. Sympson in ye Strand 
near Catherine Street. H. 10; Sub. S 3 A; W. 7^4; 
O. D. H. S'A; W. 7. 

I. As described. II. Engraver's name and 
address erased, reworked, modern. 

Another reproduction of the same original 
may be found in Lord Ronald Gower's 
Tower of London, VOL. II, p. 66. The dag- 
gers of Blood and Parret which were used to 
stab Edwards are said to be preserved in the 
Royal Literary Fund Society's museum, 
Adelphi Terrace. 

The family of Blood among the earlier 
settlers of New England has sometimes been 
said to be closely connected with that of 
the Colonel, but there is no substantial evi- 
dence either way. {Mass. Hist. Coll.) On 
the other hand a tablet to the memory of 
Blood's cousin, Neptune, is to be found in 



98 COLONEL THOMAS BLOOD 

Kilfernora Cathedral (Proc. Roy. Soc. Antiq. 
Irel. 1900, p. 396). A note says that he was 
the son and namesake of his predecessor in 
the Deanery and grandson of Edmond Blood 
of Macknay in Derbyshire who settled in Ire- 
land about 1595 and was M. P. for Ennis in 
1 61 3. A fuller account of the plots is to be 
found in articles by the author of this sketch 
in the American Historical Review for April 
and July, 1909, under title of English Con- 
spiracy and Dissent, 1660-1674.. 



MArt 



1911 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



, " 1911 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS Q 

020 679 481 1 



